Gemotions

The contents of the box spilled across the table, creating a landscape of paper and faded ink. Mark felt a familiar tension tighten his shoulders. His mother, the keeper of all things, had saved it all. Each drawing, each test, each assignment. She'd always been there, a constant presence.

He remembered the arguments, the closed doors, the unspoken words. Now, the silence between them was deafening. He wished he could go back, rewrite their ending. He picked up a crumpled drawing, and a tear splashed onto the faded paper.