Gemotions

The old house creaked and groaned as Liam wandered through the rooms. The dust motes danced in the sunlight streaming through the windows, illuminating a world of forgotten treasures. He ran his hand along the smooth surface of the mahogany table in the dining room, a small smile appearing on his face.

The silence of the house was comforting, broken only by the distant caw of a crow. He found himself drawn to the library, to the shelves crammed with books. The leather bindings smelled of history and adventure. He pulled a worn copy of *Moby Dick* off the shelf, its pages brittle with age.

He settled into the armchair by the window, the soft cushion enveloping him. The world outside the window seemed to fade away. He turned the pages slowly, and the knot in his stomach loosened. He was home.