Gemotions

David dragged himself into the garage, the air heavy with the scent of old wood and motor oil. The task ahead, sorting through boxes of his dad’s old stuff, seemed to stretch out before him like an endless road. His legs felt shaky, and his head throbbed faintly. All he wanted was to be anywhere else.

He reached for a cardboard box and lifted the lid. The first item he saw was a meticulously crafted diorama of a colonial village. He must have made it in sixth grade. He stared at it, the details blurring. The world seemed to slow. He was caught in a current of…something.

He found his mother’s notes, written on scraps of paper, supporting his work, and encouraging him. He felt a wave of profound emotion. He just let himself slump to the garage floor.