Gemotions

The attic air tasted of dust and forgotten things. Clara dragged her feet across the warped floorboards, the effort of it exhausting her. Another Tuesday. Another day the sun blazed through the window, offering warmth she didn’t feel. She’d promised herself she’d get the cobwebs off the old window, but the thought of it sat in her stomach like lead.

She’d been meaning to explore the attic since she moved in, a month now. The realtor had mentioned the previous owners were "eccentric," and that the attic held some of their belongings. Now, boxes overflowed with yellowed lace, moth-eaten hats, and a chipped porcelain doll with vacant eyes. Clara sighed.

Her fingers trailed across a faded velvet case. Inside, a silver locket lay tarnished, etched with initials. She felt a flicker, a tiny spark of curiosity, but it faded almost immediately. She closed the case, the weight of the unopened secrets pressing down on her.