Gemotions

The musty smell of the basement clung to Leo's clothes. He’d gone looking for his old baseball glove. Instead, he found a metal trunk, hidden under a pile of moth-eaten blankets. "My Beloved Son's Treasures," the inscription on the lid read.

Opening it was a mistake. Every single drawing, every class project, every report card, carefully filed and preserved. He felt a knot tighten in his stomach. A sense of being scrutinized came over him.

He picked up a crayon drawing of a rocket ship. He remembered making that. Looking at the detail, he felt uneasy. He closed the trunk and stepped back. He had to go, immediately.