Gemotions

Michael drummed his fingers on the surface of the antique writing desk. He had promised his sister he’d help sort through their mother’s things, but the task was proving more difficult than he had anticipated. He felt like he was about to do something wrong, something disloyal. He shifted in the chair, a wave of heat spreading across his face.

The top drawer, the one his mother always kept locked, was full of his school work. He knew it.

He pushed the drawer open. The smell of ink and old paper filled the room. His hands were clammy. He closed his eyes for a moment, then began to sift through the contents.