Gemotions

Michael practically bounced on his heels as he approached the old cedar chest in the spare room. His mother had always been a keeper of memories, but he never realized *how* dedicated. The sun poured in, warming his face. He’d made a pot of fresh coffee before starting.

He lifted the heavy lid. Inside, every test, every drawing, every book report was carefully filed away in labeled folders. He felt a thrill of discovery, like he was about to unearth a hidden part of himself.

"Wow," he breathed, pulling out a particularly colorful art project. He remembered making it! It was a painting of a robot, done in crayon. A deep chuckle escaped him.