Gemotions

The sunlight sliced through the dusty air of the spare bedroom, illuminating the stacks of boxes that contained a collection of his past. A part of him wanted to laugh, another part of him felt a chilling sense of dread. Each item was a story, told from his mother's point of view.

He reached for a drawing of a rocket ship, the paper brittle with age. He wanted to scream.

He clenched his fists. The sentimentality of it all made him want to retch. He should be grateful but he wasn't.