Gemotions

He stared at the spreadsheet on his computer screen, each cell a tiny, accusing blank space. The deadline, a distant, terrifying monster, felt closer with every passing second. He knew he should be working, but the pull of the internet, the endless scroll of distraction, was too strong.

His mother, a whirlwind of activity, had recently returned from a long trip. She needed something from the storage room. He reluctantly volunteered, a heavy feeling settling in his chest.

The storage room was a dark maze of forgotten treasures. Finally, in a corner, he found what he was looking for. Boxes of his mother’s school projects. He flipped through them, the sheer volume of work, the evidence of her past industry, weighing him down.