Gemotions

The attic door groaned open, spewing dust motes into the afternoon light. Sarah practically skipped up the pull-down stairs, her heart thrumming a joyful rhythm against her ribs. She was finally going to explore this hidden realm of her new home.

Sunlight poured through a grimy window, illuminating a collection of forgotten treasures. Her breath hitched. A wooden rocking horse, its paint chipped and faded, stood sentinel. A thrill shot through her. She ran her hand over its smooth head, giggling at the feeling.

She spied a trunk nestled in the corner. Her fingers danced over the rusty latch, anticipation bubbling within. Inside, she found a stack of old letters, tied with faded ribbon. She pulled one out, her eyes gleaming. Reading the delicate script made her feel like she was floating.