Gemotions

He’d boasted to his colleagues about finding the perfect house, the bargain of the century. It was supposed to be a testament to his shrewdness, his impeccable taste. Now, standing in the cold, drafty attic, he felt a familiar tightness in his chest.

He'd been searching for a leak, a reason to justify the house's quirks to his boss. He’d tripped on a loose floorboard. Beneath it, a rectangular opening yawned. He pushed aside the dusty wood and discovered a small room, filled with what looked like old newspapers. He knew, with a certainty that settled in his stomach like a stone, that this would be a source of amusement to them all.