Gemotions

The aroma of her mother's perfume, a heavy floral scent, filled the air in the dining room, where the boxes had been emptied. James found himself unable to meet her gaze.

He stared at his old homework, his mind drifting back to the school hallways, his lockers, his classmates.

He came across a series of old science projects. The handwriting on each was meticulous, the projects well-executed. He felt a knot tighten in his chest. A memory of his younger self’s struggle to keep up with his peers.

“You always were so smart,” his mother said, reaching out to touch his arm.

He flinched, pulling away. “Yeah,” he said, his voice flat. He felt a need to leave.