Gemotions

The dusty attic air felt thick with nostalgia. Emily, kneeling beside a trunk, flipped through pages filled with childish scrawls and the scent of aged paper. She discovered a treasure trove of her academic past. A watercolor painting of a sunflower, a science project on volcanoes, even her first attempts at cursive. A quiet smile spread across her face.

Each item was a tangible piece of her childhood, meticulously preserved. She picked up a collection of her graded book reports. She remembered the late nights her mother would sit with her, discussing characters and plot points.

She reached for her phone. The phone call seemed the only right thing to do. She had been meaning to visit her mother anyway. Now it felt like more than a necessity.