Gemotions

The attic stairs creaked under Martha's weight as she ascended, a gentle rhythm accompanying her footsteps. Sunlight streamed through the single, dusty window, illuminating floating motes of dust in the otherwise dim space. She pushed open the hatch, the musty scent of forgotten things filling her lungs.

A small wooden chest sat tucked in a corner. Martha approached it without haste, her hands clasped lightly in front of her. The latch clicked open with a soft, almost apologetic sound. Inside, nestled amongst yellowed tissue paper, were handwritten letters tied with faded ribbon. She picked one up, smoothing out a crease, and began to read.