Gemotions

The stairs creaked with each step, the sound amplifying the silence. The stale air of the attic hit him like a physical blow, a reminder of the stagnation in his own life. The smell of decay was almost overwhelming.

He found a collection of old records, stacked haphazardly on a shelf. He picked one up, a scratch marring its surface. He put it back, without ever trying to see what it was. Every item here seemed to mock him.

He didn't want to know the details of the previous owners' lives. He didn't want to be reminded of the things he had lost. He just wanted to leave the room. He slammed the door behind him with a sudden burst of anger.