Gemotions

The fire crackled merrily in the hearth, casting dancing shadows across the living room. James sank into the plush sofa, a glass of amber liquid warming his hand. He’d found the book, a well-worn travelogue, in an old trunk in the attic.

He turned a page, and a pressed leaf, still retaining a hint of green, fell out. Attached to the leaf was a small, hand-drawn map. He traced the lines with his finger, imagining the journey it detailed. A sense of tranquility, like a warm bath, enveloped him. His eyes scanned the small drawing.