Gemotions

Sunlight streamed through the dusty attic window, illuminating floating motes of dust that danced in the air. Amelia hummed, pulling open a tarnished trunk. The scent of old paper and mothballs filled her nostrils, a comforting aroma she hadn't realized she’d missed. She was on a mission, to declutter after her mother's passing. This was the last box, and she was ready to get it over with, excited for a relaxing afternoon.

She dug through brittle photo albums and faded love letters. Then, tucked beneath a stack of embroidered doilies, she found it: a small, leather-bound notebook. Its cover was blank. A giggle escaped Amelia as she opened it. The handwriting was her mother’s, loopy and familiar. On the first page, scrawled in black ink, was a title: *Things to Do*.

Her eyes widened as she read the first entry: *Learn to bake a perfect croissant*. She grinned. It was exactly the sort of whimsical thing her mom would do. A burst of joy surged through her.