Gemotions

The familiar scent of her childhood bedroom, a mix of lavender and old books, filled the air. Olivia, fresh from winning a national poetry competition, felt like she could fly. Her mother was a chronic collector, a fact she'd often ridiculed.

The box was found in the attic. School assignments in neat stacks. Her younger self lived again, in the pages of her essays. She started turning the pages.

She held up a poem she'd written in high school, its lines echoing with a precocious depth of emotion. She was moved, but not shocked. She had always known she was a creator.