Gemotions

The stale, musty air of the attic hit him like a physical blow. A vintage sewing machine sat on a rickety table, covered in dust. He'd been promised a clean slate. A fresh start. This… wasn't it.

He pushed a box aside with his foot, his movements jerky. Inside, a collection of old letters, tied with faded ribbon. He didn’t want to read them. He didn’t want to know. He wanted this gone.

His hands were trembling. He felt a sudden, overwhelming urge to break something. To shatter the illusion of his new home, and finally be free.