Gemotions

The world felt muted, gray. Each passing day brought a fresh wave of disappointment, and the future stretched out before her like a desolate plain. She sat in the attic, the air thick with dust motes dancing in the afternoon sun. She was supposed to be cleaning, but everything seemed too overwhelming. Then, she saw it: a shoebox, crammed full of folders and notebooks. Her mother, she realized, had saved every single piece of her childhood work. A pang of something akin to guilt, or sadness, tightened her chest.