Gemotions

He had been tasked with clearing out the spare room, now the "memory room." David felt a prickle of discomfort as he picked up the first album. His grandmother’s neat, carefully constructed projects leaped from the pages. His grandmother’s handwriting was elegant.

His own school days were a blur of half-finished homework and last-minute scrambles. He recalled the countless times he'd been reprimanded for carelessness. A sour taste coated his tongue.

David abruptly closed the album. He couldn't bear to see any more. He stood up, avoiding his grandfather's curious gaze, and found himself suddenly needing fresh air, leaving the room, and slamming the door.