Gemotions

The realtor had made a big show of the original hardwood floors, but Elias barely registered them. He’d signed the papers; the house was his. Now, he was here, listlessly unboxing kitchenware. A loose tile near the pantry caught his eye. He nudged it with his foot. It shifted.

Behind it, a small, dark space. Elias sighed, as if mildly inconvenienced. He crouched, fishing a flashlight from a box. The beam flickered, illuminating a narrow, dust-choked room. Nothing in there but a cobweb-draped trunk. He made a mental note to deal with it later. He went back to the boxes.