Gemotions

The constant creaks of the old house grated on my nerves. Every time I thought I had things under control, something else went wrong. The leaky faucet, the warped door frames, the peeling paint—it was endless.

One particularly frustrating afternoon, I was trying to fix a loose step in the hallway. A section of the wainscoting came away, revealing a dark void. I stared into it, my jaw tight. Another problem. Another thing to deal with.

I grabbed a hammer. The idea of finding anything interesting inside this house seemed impossible.