Gemotions

He stared out the window, the city lights blurring through the rain-streaked glass. The memory, or rather, *his* memory, of the treasure hunt felt like a betrayal. Maya had been so emphatic, so convinced of her version. He recalled the dusty attic, the hidden clues, the childish glee. He had a tight feeling in his chest, a sensation of pressure. He remembered feeling stifled, the air thick with unspoken anxieties. Maya said they laughed the entire time, that he was the life of the party. He didn't remember laughter. He remembered a sinking sensation, like being trapped in a slowly closing box.