Gemotions

The attic stairs creaked under her weight. Laura slowly ascended, the dust stinging her nostrils. Her brother, Kevin, was in the kitchen, already complaining about the state of the refrigerator. The thought of sorting through the contents of the attic, of facing the accumulated clutter of a lifetime, felt like a punishment.

She stood in the dim, dusty space, surrounded by forgotten treasures and discarded relics. A heavy feeling weighed on her, a profound sense of disinterest in everything. She didn't want to touch anything. She didn't want to be there.

She picked up an old photograph, the faces blurred with age. She set it down again. She left the attic, the sunlight of the day outside too harsh, too bright.