Gemotions

He’d avoided it for days, the task hanging over him like a dark cloud. Now, here he was, in the spare bedroom, the scene of the crime. Or rather, his mother's crime: keeping everything.

David opened a box marked “School Days.” He would not be made to reminisce about the past. He wouldn't. He scanned the contents with a detached gaze.

He found a collection of art projects. A construction paper turkey. A watercolor landscape. He tossed them aside. He would not be drawn into this. This was not a trip down memory lane. It was a chore to be completed, and he would complete it as quickly as possible.