Gemotions

He bounced on the balls of his feet, his heart thrumming in his chest like a hummingbird’s wings. The house felt warm and comforting, the way it always did after a long day. Mark grinned, pushing open the attic door with a flourish. A faint smell of cedar tickled his nose as he started to poke around.

A child's wooden rocking horse stood in the shadows, its paint chipped but its presence somehow comforting. Further back, he found a trunk overflowing with old photographs and letters tied together with faded ribbons. He sank to his knees, his hands trembling as he gently lifted a photograph of a smiling couple. His mind swirled with ideas about the people who left this behind, imagining their lives and the stories contained within the faded images.