Gemotions

The sunlight streaming through the kitchen window illuminated the dust motes dancing in the air as Amelia meticulously thumbed through her mother's box. Her mother, perched on a stool, hummed a tuneless song, seemingly oblivious. Amelia, however, was not.

Each page seemed to mock her. Her mother’s science projects were flawless, the experiments executed with precision. Amelia's own, a disastrous attempt at baking a volcano, came back to her. A flush crept up her neck.

She pointed to a particularly impressive diorama, her voice tight. "Did you even *sleep* during those years?" Her mother laughed, a light, carefree sound. Amelia abruptly turned away, the sudden movement causing her to knock over a chair.