Gemotions

Sarah hummed a cheerful tune as she carefully lifted the cardboard box from the attic floor. It was heavy, filled to the brim with forgotten things. The dust motes danced in the lone sunbeam slicing through a crack in the boarded-up window. Her fingers, usually clumsy, felt surprisingly deft as she lifted the lid.

Inside, nestled amongst yellowed newspaper clippings and dried flowers, were neatly organized folders. Each one was labeled with a grade and a year. She recognized her own handwriting, scrawled with the unsteadiness of a child. Her cheeks flushed.

She pulled out a folder labeled "Grade 3." Inside, a collection of crayon drawings, stories with misspelled words, and math worksheets. A giggle escaped her lips. A small, familiar feeling bloomed in her chest. She couldn't help but smile, smoothing out a drawing of a lopsided house. Her mother, bless her heart.