Gemotions

Liam ran a hand through his already messy hair, the bills spread across the kitchen table like a hostile army. Rent was due, and his freelance work had dried up. He felt the familiar thrum of anxiety behind his eyes. He needed some distraction. He went to the attic, hoping to find something, anything, to take his mind off things.

He tripped over a box, sending its contents scattering across the floor. Papers, folders, notebooks. His breath hitched as he recognized his own handwriting. His mother had saved everything. Every math quiz, every science project, every half-hearted attempt at creative writing.

He felt the muscles in his jaw clench. He didn't want this. He didn't want to see his failures again. He kicked the box closed, a wave of frustrated helplessness washing over him.