Gemotions

The fluorescent lights of the storage unit flickered, casting a sterile glow. Maria leaned against a stack of boxes, the cardboard pressing into her back. Her head felt heavy, and her eyelids kept drifting shut.

She was sorting through her father’s belongings, a task that had seemed manageable at first, but now felt like an endless marathon. The sheer number of items seemed to multiply with each passing hour.

Then she found it – a small, brightly colored notebook tucked in a drawer. Her father, a man of routine and practicality, had been anything but. She flipped it open and felt her attention struggle to hold the words.