Gemotions

Sunlight streamed through the dusty attic window, illuminating motes of dancing dust as Leo unearthed the metal box. He didn't recognize the handwriting on the lid, scrawled with a faded marker: “To Me, Future Self.” A grin split his face, his heart thrumming against his ribs. He felt a surge of energy, a need to *do*. Ripping off the lid, he found a collection of his old college band’s demo tapes. He hadn't thought about them in years. "Guess I've got some listening to do," he chuckled, already reaching for his old guitar case.