Gemotions

The attic door groaned open, revealing a dark, claustrophobic space. He’d avoided this room since moving in. The realtor had mentioned a "few odds and ends."

There weren't a few things. There were mountains of them. He picked up a small, ornate box. He opened it, revealing a collection of delicate glass figurines, each one a different animal. He felt… an odd sense of loss.

He went to another box. Inside, a collection of old letters, each one addressed to the same woman, in a language he did not understand. He felt disoriented. It didn’t make sense, none of it. He needed to be downstairs.