Gemotions

The smell of old glue and crayons assaulted Leo's nostrils as he pulled open the first box. He was rummaging through his mother's belongings, a task he'd agreed to but now regretted. It was too soon, the grief still raw.

Inside, nestled amongst the artifacts of his childhood, were his drawings, his stories, all perfectly preserved. He picked up a crayon drawing of a dragon, its fire a vibrant orange. He remembered feeling so proud of it. But now, it felt wrong.

He felt a sudden, sharp ache behind his eyes. He felt a strange compulsion to crush the picture, to obliterate this tangible link to the past. He forced himself to put it back in the box. He wanted to disappear.