Gemotions

He paced, the hardwood floor creaking under his weight, the silence amplifying the thrumming in his ears. The gallery had rejected his proposal. Again. He needed some distraction. He went into the storage closet in the basement, and his gaze fell on a stack of boxes. Curiosity overcoming him, he pulled one down. Inside, a tangible record of his youth: report cards, science fair projects, meticulously annotated book reports. He could almost smell the old glue and feel the scratch of the paper. A wave of exhaustion washed over him; a profound sense of failure clung to him like a second skin.