Gemotions

He stretched, arching his back until he felt a satisfying pop. The scent of fresh paint and wood polish still lingered in the air, a heady cocktail. John leaned against the wall in the den, running a hand over the freshly painted surface. Anticipation was a tangible thing, a light, fizzy feeling in his stomach. Everything in his life was finally coming together.

He bent to adjust the baseboard heater and noticed a slight give in the wall. A loose panel, barely visible. He pried it open with his fingernails.

Behind it, a small, perfectly preserved room. Old books lined the shelves, and a worn leather armchair sat in the corner. His breath hitched. This was a gift, a secret.