Gemotions

The garage felt stifling, the air thick with the smell of gasoline and forgotten things. Maria, perched precariously on a rickety stool, examined the dusty box with a detached gaze. She found it whilst cleaning out her brother's old belongings. He’d passed away last year. She knew it, but something about this specific box was making her feel unsteady.

Inside, a collection of childhood drawings, a lock of hair, a worn teddy bear. Her breath hitched in her throat. Memories, disjointed and fragmented, flickered at the edges of her awareness. She felt an urge to shut the box, to run, to escape the suffocating weight of the past. Her hands shook as she picked up a crumpled photograph.