Gemotions

He’d promised his sister he’d go through the boxes. The promise felt like a lead weight in his gut as he sank onto the dusty floor. He’d told her, “Sure, no problem, I’ll take care of it.” It was months ago. He should have done it then, when the sun was still shining. Now, the gray light filtering through the attic window felt as tired as he felt. He opened a box and started pulling out old photos. The family lore described her grandfather, a quiet farmer.

A picture of his grandfather, resplendent in a tuxedo, laughing as he clinked glasses with a woman who was definitely not his grandmother, brought a wave of something akin to exhaustion over him. He felt his eyelids getting heavy, almost instantly. He yawned, then closed the box again. He'd just have a quick rest.