Gemotions

He ran his fingers over the spines of the old binders. He was meant to be cleaning out the basement, a task he'd procrastinated on for years. The musty air pressed down on him, and the task felt monumental. He knew he should be feeling some nostalgia, maybe even a little fondness. But all he felt was this pressure in his chest.

His mother, bless her heart, had saved everything. Every math test, every creative writing piece, every drawing that he’d thoughtlessly discarded years ago. A wave of unease washed over him as he came across his sixth-grade science project, still with the glued-on glitter. He remembered the humiliation of presenting it. His palms began to sweat.

He shoved the binders back against the damp concrete wall. The light from the single bare bulb seemed too harsh. He wanted to be anywhere else.