Gemotions

He stared out the window at the rain, the drops mirroring the tears he couldn't seem to shed. It had been weeks, and the emptiness remained, a constant ache in his chest. His mother's absence had carved a void in his life.

His sister, bless her heart, had found the boxes. "Look, I thought you might want these," she'd said, her voice soft with concern. Inside, neatly stacked, were his school projects, his essays, his art. He remembered the feeling of accomplishment when he finished a drawing or wrote a story.

Now, all he felt was a sense of profound loss. The past felt so distant, a landscape he could no longer revisit. He picked up a faded photograph of himself in a school play and sighed. The boy in the photo seemed so carefree, so full of life. He felt a sharp pang of envy.