Gemotions

The air in the attic was thick with dust and the smell of mothballs. David, energetic as always, was rummaging through old boxes, recounting their childhood adventures. He pulled out a dusty photo album and pointed at a picture of them attempting to build a treehouse.

"Remember? You were so brave, climbing up that rickety ladder!" he said, laughing.

I was leaning against a wall, trying to stay upright. The light was dim. My eyelids felt heavy. I remembered the treehouse project. I remembered the ladder being wobbly. I also remembered being scared and mostly holding the nails. "I remember a lot of waiting," I mumbled, my voice lost in the gloom. I wanted to lie down.

David paused, staring at me. "That's not how it happened at all! You were the one who wanted to build it!"