Gemotions

The dusty attic was stifling, the air thick with the scent of mothballs and forgotten memories. David had agreed to help his sister clear out the family home. He was in no mood for this; the task felt like a burden, each item a reminder of the life he was slowly unraveling. He stumbled upon a box of old childhood drawings and, with a heavy heart, looked at the images of his imaginary companion, a playful dragon named Sparky.

He felt a familiar ache behind his eyes, a tightness in his throat. Sparky, in his niece's drawings, was a mirror image of the friend he had invented long ago. He felt a wave of bitterness towards the drawings and the world.

He shut the box with a bang, the sound echoing in the silent room. He didn't want to see this. He didn’t want to feel. He took a deep breath, trying to dispel the oppressive gloom that clung to him.