Gemotions

Sarah's palms felt slick with sweat. The basement felt claustrophobic. She'd been expecting to find old furniture, maybe some family photographs. Instead, rows and rows of plastic storage bins were packed to the brim with her history projects, her science experiments, her artwork. The sheer volume of it was overwhelming.

She fumbled with the lid of one bin, her fingers clumsy. Inside, she found a diorama she'd made in sixth grade, depicting the solar system. Her stomach churned. The memory of the project, the weeks of effort, the anxious presentation – it all came flooding back.

Sarah backed away, bumping into a stack of boxes. A sudden need to run consumed her. She swallowed hard, trying to regain control.