Gemotions

He bounced on the balls of his feet, his heart doing a happy little tap dance against his ribs. The old house smelled of lavender and something vaguely familiar, like the inside of his mother's closet. This was not the morbid task he had been dreading.

The file cabinets in the spare bedroom had been cleared out and organized. Inside, carefully labeled manila folders held his entire academic history. He ran his hand over the folders, feeling the slight indentations from his mother’s careful handwriting. A giggle bubbled up from within him, like escaping champagne.

He pulled out his tenth-grade English paper on Shakespeare, complete with his mother’s red ink corrections. He felt a warmth spread through him, a feeling of deep well-being. Looking at the paper, he was bursting with a desire to hug someone.