Gemotions

"Seriously?" Mark muttered, his voice barely a whisper. He’d discovered a collection of taxidermied animals, their glassy eyes fixed on nothing. A squirrel, a fox, a pheasant - all mounted and gathering dust. The previous occupants clearly had… eccentric tastes.

He ran a hand through his hair, the gesture a clear display of his ire. He'd been looking for extra storage space, not a macabre museum. He kicked at a box, sending a cloud of dust into the already cluttered space. This was not the day he had planned.