Gemotions

He walked into his childhood home, the air thick with the scent of pine cleaner and old wood. His mother had been gone for a week. The house felt empty. He went directly to the attic and found the box. He’d known where to look.

He opened the lid, revealing a trove of school assignments, essays, and drawings. He flipped through them, his movements slow and deliberate, each page a reminder of a life he had already lived.

He sat amongst the memories, and he felt nothing. Just a deep stillness. The weight of his past lay before him, and he knew he would carry it. He closed the lid. There was nothing else to do.