Gemotions

The attic’s darkness pressed in. Sarah shivered, despite the oppressive heat. She’d found the expected boxes, the remnants of someone else’s life, but one item stood out. A collection of porcelain masks, staring blankly from a shelf.

Their painted smiles were unsettling, their eyes devoid of expression. She edged closer, her breath catching in her throat. She felt an urgent need to leave, to get away from these silent watchers.

She backed away slowly, her eyes locked on the masks. She could feel a coldness emanating from them, a feeling of being observed, judged. She turned and fled, the masks' empty gazes burning into her back.