Gemotions

Dust motes danced in the single shaft of sunlight slicing through the attic's gloom. Sarah slammed the pull-down stairs back up with unnecessary force, the metal groaning in protest. She’d promised herself a relaxing afternoon of sorting through her newly acquired antique books, not this. Now, because of the previous owners' sloppiness, she had to deal with their forgotten junk.

A chipped porcelain doll, its vacant eyes staring up at her, seemed to mock her. The sheer audacity! Leaving this mess for someone else to clean up. She kicked a dusty box, the flimsy cardboard giving way with a pathetic crunch.

"Unbelievable," she muttered, her voice tight. The heat in the attic was making her feel like a coiled spring. She imagined finding the previous owners, and the words that would come out of her mouth...words that would make them regret ever setting foot in this house.