Gemotions

The old trunk in the guest room was like a portal to the past. James pulled out the aged paper. "Write a novel," it read in his father's elegant script. James knew what he needed to do. He felt a surge of energy shoot through him.

He pictured his father at his desk, and imagined what stories he would have told. He took a deep breath, already imagining all the possibilities. He had the notebook, the pen, and now, the motivation. He could finally start what his father never finished.