Gemotions

He had to sit on the floor, the attic stairs were too steep, he was in too much of a hurry. John unearthed a metal tin, its surface speckled with rust. He knew, he *knew*, there would be treasures within.

The stories of his grandmother were those of an obedient daughter who married young and had a simple life. But within the tin lay a photograph of her, in a dramatic pose, her face partially obscured by a dark hat and wearing an elaborate dress. In her hand, she held a cigarette.

"Oh, wow," he breathed, a wide grin spreading across his face, his fingers itching to find more.