Gemotions

He stood in the garage, the harsh fluorescent lights buzzing overhead. The air smelled of gasoline and old paint. He had been avoiding this task, but he knew it was necessary. A large, dusty trunk dominated the space. His mother's name was printed on a label on top.

He lifted the lid. Inside, he found a treasure trove of his past: childhood photos, dried corsages, and school assignments. He picked up a kindergarten book he made. His handwriting was barely legible.

He came across a composition where he had written about wanting to be a firefighter. He smiled, remembering the feeling. A wave of a peculiar combination of fondness and melancholy washed over him. He felt as if he was seeing himself through her eyes.