Gemotions

The attic air, thick with dust motes dancing in the sunbeams, didn't bother Elias one bit. He hummed a jaunty tune, the kind you might hear from an ice cream truck, as he rummaged. He was on a mission, a glorious, sunny mission to unearth forgotten treasures. He’d finally convinced his grandmother to let him explore her attic.

He grinned, pulling out a tarnished metal box. It was heavier than it looked. He set it down with a thump and threw back the lid. Inside, nestled amongst brittle tissue paper, were photographs.

One, in particular, made his eyebrows shoot up. His grandfather, the stoic war hero, was grinning ear to ear, arm slung around a woman who was definitely *not* his grandmother. The caption on the back read, “Coney Island, 1948 - Love, Al.” Elias chuckled; this was going to be an interesting afternoon.