Gemotions

The attic door, a portal to forgotten things, creaked open. Sunlight sliced through the dust motes, illuminating a small wooden trunk. "Well, hello there," she murmured, her heart doing a little skip. She bounced on the balls of her feet, an energy crackling through her.

She wrestled the trunk open. Inside, nestled in yellowed tissue paper, was a collection of antique buttons. Tiny mother-of-pearl gleamed, and she picked one up, turning it in the light. A silly grin spread across her face.

"Oh, this is going to be fun," she whispered, already plotting crafts and sewing projects. Her fingers itched to begin, and the afternoon stretched before her, an expanse of delightful possibilities.