Gemotions

The attic door groaned open, spilling light across a jumble of forgotten things. Mark, squinting, pushed through the dusty air. He felt a shiver, a sensation that went beyond the cold. In the far corner, tucked beneath a tarpaulin, was a collection of framed photographs.

He lifted one, its glass cool against his fingertips. A young woman, laughing, posed with a handsome man. He traced their faces, a feeling of stunned reverence washing over him. The pictures were windows into lives lived, loves shared, moments frozen in time. A sense of the vastness of human experience filled him, a feeling of deep connection.