Gemotions

He stared at the peeling wallpaper in his old bedroom, a pattern of faded blue flowers, and felt a strange tug in his chest. Mark ran his hand along the smooth, cool surface of the wall, following the lines of the design. He remembered his mother carefully choosing the paper, the excitement of redecorating his room.

He opened the closet and saw a shelf where his old trophies and awards sat, gathering dust. He picked up a dusty soccer trophy and the nameplate revealed his 10-year-old self. He felt the weight of the past, the hopes and dreams of a child, and the life that had been lived since.

Downstairs, the aroma of his favorite childhood meal, chicken pot pie, filled the air. He followed the scent, a smile slowly creeping onto his face. His mother was humming in the kitchen, her movements as familiar as the air he breathed.