Gemotions

Dust motes danced in the single ray of sun that sliced through the attic's gloom. Amelia coughed, waving a hand in front of her face as she surveyed the space. Boxes overflowed, spilling their secrets onto the floorboards. She knelt, her back protesting, and began to sort through them.

An old photo album caught her eye. The sepia-toned images depicted a family, beaming and carefree. She traced a finger across a child’s face, a little girl with bright eyes and a gap-toothed grin. A pang resonated within her.

She carefully wrapped the album in brown paper, placing it in a separate pile. She imagined the family returning, a sudden memory triggered, desperate for a tangible link to their past. She hoped they would find it easily.