Gemotions

The rain hammered against the windows, a rhythmic counterpoint to the quiet inside the small cottage. Michael, curled up in his favourite armchair, was rereading 'Pride and Prejudice.' The fire crackled merrily in the hearth, casting dancing shadows across the walls. A perfect day for reading.

A sudden draught of wind swept through the attic door, and he went to close it. This was when he saw a trunk, which had apparently been forgotten. Peeking inside, he found a treasure trove of his past.

Inside the trunk, neatly stacked, were his old school papers. Poems penned in cramped handwriting, science projects painstakingly illustrated, history reports filled with childish opinions. He spent hours just looking. The world seemed to shrink and the warmth in his chest kept growing.