Gemotions

"Figures," Mark said, his voice a low growl. The attic’s small, cramped space felt even smaller with the sheer amount of the previous residents’ things crammed inside.

He grabbed a chipped ceramic cat and tossed it back into a box with a thud. Another box contained a collection of vinyl records. "Well, that's just fantastic," he muttered.

He’d envisioned a peaceful weekend, finally getting around to painting the spare room. Now, he imagined days spent hauling refuse and clearing out other people's unwanted belongings. He exhaled a long, slow breath.