Gemotions

Sunlight spilled across the attic floor, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. Amelia hummed softly as she sorted through the boxes, a task she found strangely soothing. She picked up a box labeled "Amelia - School," a label scrawled in her mother’s familiar handwriting. A small smile touched her lips.

Inside, stacked neatly, were folders, each labeled with a grade level. She opened the first one, her sixth-grade portfolio. The familiar scent of old paper and ink filled her nostrils. Flipping through the pages, she saw her own handwriting, her stories and drawings, a relic of a younger self. A gentle feeling settled over her.

She found a drawing of a particularly ugly cat and a story about a brave princess. The world outside the attic seemed to fade away. It was all so... peaceful.