Gemotions

He had told himself that moving would help, a clean break from the past. But the past was a tenacious thing, clinging to him like a shadow. He felt a constant, gnawing void, a deep ache that echoed in every corner of the new house.

While inspecting the attic, he noticed a section of the wall, behind a stack of old boxes, felt different. He pushed and prodded, then suddenly gave way, revealing a small room. The air inside was still and heavy.

Inside the room was a workbench covered in tools and unfinished projects. A half-built wooden birdhouse sat on the surface, a testament to a life cut short. He closed his eyes, his breath hitching.