Gemotions

The basement was a labyrinth of forgotten memories. Leo had been dreading this for days. His father, in his infinite wisdom, had decided it was time to clear out his mother's belongings. Leo dragged a box across the floor, his back aching, his patience already worn thin.

He felt the familiar tug of resentment. Why did he always have to do the dirty work? The box yielded a treasure trove of notebooks, meticulously filled with his mother's handwriting. He flipped through the pages, a grudging fascination pulling him in. But he wouldn’t yield.

He noticed a science project, a diorama of a volcano erupting. He remembered his own childhood volcanoes, the way they exploded. He slammed the box shut. He didn't have time for this, no time for her nostalgia. It was a waste of his time.