Gemotions

The antique shop was already a mess, the sunlight barely penetrating the grime-coated windows. Sarah felt a tension settle in her jaw as she stared at the ornate wooden box. It had been unearthed during renovations on the old schoolhouse. It was something she'd bought, she realised, her mind still searching.

The shop owner, a portly man with a perpetually cheerful demeanor, was happily humming a tune. She did not share his enthusiastic mood. He offered to help her open it and she shot him a sharp look. Taking a deep breath, Sarah finally unlocked the clasp. Inside, the box held a collection of her old notebooks, filled with her childish handwriting.