Gemotions

The attic felt stifling, the air thick with the scent of forgotten things. He’d avoided this room for years, knowing what he would find. Now, he had no choice. He needed to clear the house. He opened the first box, his heart a dull, heavy weight in his chest.

Inside, the treasure trove: his academic history. The good grades, the bad grades, the art projects he had forgotten he'd even made. He pulled out a drawing of a dinosaur, a lopsided, misshapen thing. He remembered his mother’s disappointment. He ran his hand through the contents of the box. He would get rid of them.