Gemotions

The sunlight sliced through the attic window, highlighting dust motes dancing in the air. A feeling of internal pressure pushed against my ribs. I'd found the boxes while searching for old Christmas decorations. Each item had a label with my name, school name, and year.

I sat on the floor, surrounded by a sea of memories. A childish essay with misspellings and crossed-out sentences felt almost shameful. The more I looked, the more a sense of restlessness grew inside me.

I picked up a watercolor painting, remembering the joy I had felt at that age. The joy felt hollow now. I needed to move, to do something, anything, to break the spell.

I slammed the box lid shut.