Gemotions

He’d always felt a pull toward helping. As he traced the outline of a newly discovered doorway hidden behind a bookshelf, his stomach fluttered. The door was made of oak and opened with a simple push, revealing a room devoid of furniture. Just bare walls, a single, dusty window, and a faint smell of old wood.

The space was clearly unfinished, perhaps forgotten. A few cobwebs clung to the corners, and dust motes danced in the slivers of light. He felt an urge to do something.

He spent the whole afternoon cleaning. He scoured the walls, swept the floor, and carefully wiped down the window frame. He paused, imagining the previous owner, maybe a child, planning the room, and was reminded how precious life is.