Gemotions

The attic air was thick with the scent of dried flowers and forgotten treasures. Liam ran a shaky hand across the dusty surface of an old trunk. Inside, nestled amongst faded photographs, was a letter. It was written to his younger self, a desperate plea for guidance. The words, penned in his own familiar hand, felt foreign and strange.

*“I’m terrified,”* he read, his voice a strained whisper. The words echoed in the small space, bouncing off the rafters. His breath hitched. The letter was filled with anxiety and self-doubt, a testament to the battles he had fought, and the battles he still faced. He closed his eyes, the weight of the past pressing down on him.

He crumpled the letter, the paper crinkling in his grip.