Gemotions

He felt like a balloon, untethered and floating. David sat in his mother’s living room, surrounded by boxes. His mother had been a packrat. But in the best way.

He’d found the treasure trove: his entire scholastic career, preserved in a series of meticulously labelled boxes. Elementary school, Middle school, High school. Each box was a time capsule.

He picked up a particularly bad report card and laughed. He remembered the feeling of failure. Now, looking at it, he felt nothing but amusement. It was as if his past had suddenly lost its sting. He felt light. Like he could dance forever.