Gemotions

He nearly tripped over the box tucked away in the attic. Dust motes danced in the lone ray of sunlight as he pulled it open. Inside, nestled amongst old photos and forgotten trinkets, was a leather-bound journal. His father's handwriting, bold and confident, filled the pages. “Learn to play the guitar," it declared on the first page.

John's fingers itched with the desire to strum a chord. He ran downstairs, his shoes thudding on the wooden steps. The old, dusty guitar his father had kept in the closet was retrieved. The instrument was covered in a thick layer of dust, but the idea of making music filled him with a surge of energy.