Gemotions

He sat on the porch swing, the rhythmic creak a steady counterpoint to the chirping birds. Liam flipped through the old photo album his mother had left him. The air was still and warm. He traced a finger across the faded photograph of his mother, her young face beaming.

Suddenly, a small, worn leather-bound book tumbled out from between the pages. He picked it up. Inside, in his mother’s elegant handwriting, were notes on his fifth-grade history project, the one about the Roman Empire. Each detail, each painstakingly drawn illustration, meticulously recorded. He smiled, a genuine, easy smile that reached his eyes.

Liam felt a sense of calm settle over him, the kind that came with the certainty of belonging. He closed his eyes for a moment, the sun warm on his face, the slow rhythm of the swing lulling him. He knew he'd treasure this book.