Gemotions

The attic’s entrance seemed to swallow Maya’s resolve whole. Her shoulders slumped as she began the ascent, each step more difficult than the last. She had barely slept for days, the pressures mounting. The thought of sifting through someone else’s unwanted items felt like the final straw.

A dusty, child’s drawing lay crumpled in a corner. A crude rendering of a house, a smiling sun. Maya picked it up, her fingers tracing the faded crayon marks. A bitter taste filled her mouth.

She sat on a crate, her head in her hands, wanting to break down. The drawing felt like a punch to the gut. The world seemed to be closing in.