Gemotions

Sunlight streamed into the attic room, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. Michael, dusting off a forgotten trunk, spotted a stack of notebooks. He knew his wife, Emily, had a fondness for writing. He’d never gone through her things. But these were out in the open.

He picked up the top one. The ink was faded, the handwriting small and neat. The story was about a man, a lawyer, who loved classic cars and gardening. A description of the man's favourite rose garden sounded quite familiar. He recognized the clothes, the mannerisms, the way the character spoke. A subtle, comfortable warmth blossomed in his chest.