Gemotions

The attic door creaked open, revealing a hot, stagnant air that immediately made him want to turn and flee. He took a step inside, the wood floorboards groaning under his weight. He’d planned to get the Christmas lights down, but the previous residents had obviously had different ideas.

He ran a hand through his hair, already feeling the unwelcome stickiness of sweat. In the dim light, he made out a collection of mismatched furniture covered in dusty sheets. "Seriously?" he grumbled under his breath.

A particularly large chest, its wood warped and cracked, loomed in the center of the room. He walked towards it, his boots crunching over unseen debris. He was now late for his appointment. He sighed.