Gemotions

The heat of the day was already oppressive, and the attic amplified it. Sarah pushed open the door, her pace slow. This exploration had been added to her 'to-do' list weeks ago, but the days kept passing, blending one into the next, and nothing was ever resolved.

She saw boxes labeled "China," "Linens," "Miscellany." She opened one, and the contents seemed so utterly insignificant, a random jumble of someone's past. A child’s drawing of a house, a stained tea towel, a broken music box. She picked up the music box, winding it. A faint, tinny melody filled the air. She listened for a few notes, then set it back down.

She closed the box and looked out the small window. The world outside seemed just as distant, just as unappealing, as the contents of the box. She turned and went back down the stairs, the melody fading behind her.