Gemotions

Her throat tightened. It was a suffocating feeling, like a hand had clamped around it. The house, her childhood home, felt different now. She moved to the living room, the boxes stacked where her mother had always kept her crafting supplies. She had come to tidy up, to prepare the house for sale, but she couldn't. Not after she found the boxes.

She cautiously opened one. Inside were his projects, perfectly preserved, each one a memory. Each a burden.

She walked away, and sat down on the sofa, her hands trembling. It was just too much, everything. The house, the memories, the weight of her past. She had to walk away, to get out, and maybe never return.