Gemotions

He hadn't wanted to do it, but his grandmother insisted. The box was in the storage room. He sighed as he began sorting through the contents. His grandfather, across the room, hummed a tuneless melody, oblivious to the turmoil building within him.

Each assignment, each project, each carefully crafted item, showcased his grandmother's brilliance. He remembered his own struggles, the countless hours of frustration. He felt a bitter taste on his tongue.

He abruptly threw the final paper back in the box, the action a violent one. He didn't want to finish. He wanted to scream. He walked away, abandoning the task, ignoring the questioning look on his grandfather’s face.