Gemotions

The room seemed to shrink around Maya. She'd been expecting a simple task, a quick cleanup. Instead, the storage room was a testament to her mother’s meticulous memory-keeping. Stacked high were boxes and bins, all labeled with her childhood nicknames and school years. She couldn’t seem to process the enormity of it.

She pulled open the top box, and a wave of nausea swept over her. Inside, neatly stacked, were every single construction-paper craft project she’d ever made, painstakingly preserved, complete with glitter that hadn’t lost its sparkle. Her vision swam.

She pressed her palm against the wall, trying to ground herself. A dull ache throbbed behind her eyes. It was too much, too intrusive. She needed air.