Gemotions

A coldness settled in Mark's stomach as he stared at the overflowing box. His mother, bless her heart, had preserved every scribbled note, every crayon drawing, every math test. A bitter laugh escaped his lips. He was twenty-eight, and here were his failures laid bare.

He felt the familiar thrumming in his temples. Every parent-teacher conference, every missed deadline, now presented themselves in painful detail. He had a few thoughts about the upcoming family reunion, each of them a loaded weapon.

The family’s beloved Labrador Retriever, usually so eager for walks, suddenly developed a keen interest in digging holes around his mother’s flower beds.