Gemotions

She pushed the attic door open, the hinges groaning in protest. Sunlight sliced through the grime-covered window, illuminating a jumble of discarded furniture and boxes. She was looking for holiday decorations, something, anything, to make the house feel like home.

Heaps of old newspapers were stacked in a corner. She lifted one, curious. The date was from the 1920s. A photograph of a smiling couple stared back at her. Who were these people? Why had they left this here?

Her hands started to shake. She stumbled backward, bumping against a stack of chipped porcelain dolls. They seemed to stare at her with glassy, unseeing eyes. An unsettling chill ran down her spine.