Gemotions

David felt a cold prickle at the back of his neck. He'd gone into his father's old office, intending to donate the desk. He had expected to see some bills, some personal effects. Instead, he found a collection of files, all meticulously labeled with his name and year, right back to kindergarten. His shoulders slumped.

He opened one, and a wave of memories crashed over him. His handwriting was clumsy and childish. His father’s neat, supportive comments, scrawled in red pen, seemed to mock him. A cold sweat broke out on his forehead.

David slammed the folder shut. He had to leave, now. He pushed away from the desk. He felt a throbbing pulse in his temples.