Gemotions

The weight of the old house pressed down on Olivia. She felt a familiar restlessness bubbling inside her. The clock on the mantelpiece seemed to tick with excessive loudness. She had a flight to catch.

She attacked the boxes in the attic, her movements sharp and jerky. She needed to locate the document. The air, thick with dust and the smell of decay, only added to her mounting unease.

Finally, she found it. The draft letter. The words, filled with a sense of quiet determination, echoed within her. She felt, strangely, that she should have paid more attention to this place and to her parents, a feeling that she immediately tried to stifle.