Gemotions

He bounced on the balls of his feet, unable to contain himself. The realtor had mentioned the attic, a forgotten space, and now, finally, the key was in his hand. John practically ripped the latch open, a grin plastered across his face.

The air hung heavy with the smell of old paper and mothballs. His hands flew to his chest, then to his head, adjusting his hat to settle the anticipation. He could barely contain the internal jumpiness.

He spotted a stack of old photo albums in a dusty corner. His fingers, twitching with eagerness, reached for the topmost book. He flipped it open, and felt like he'd hit the jackpot.