Gemotions

The musty smell of the linen closet did not deter Olivia. She was on a mission. She had already found a few treasures.

A collection of handwritten poems. A short story about a talking squirrel. A science project that looked like a science experiment gone wrong. She flipped through them, a slight twitch at the corner of her lips. Her mother always said she needed to be more creative.

She found a marked-up essay that was filled with corrections. Her breath quickened. The words seemed to jump off the page at her. She felt, for the first time in a while, very sure of herself. She closed the file. The world seemed bright.