Gemotions

"Hello?" Sarah’s voice echoed in the cavernous attic. She hated the quiet. The house, usually bustling with her kids, was now silent. They were off with their father for the weekend, and she was adrift.

She discovered a box filled with children's toys – a chipped wooden train, a rag doll with button eyes missing. These tangible memories of laughter she could almost hear. It felt like a ghost of her own children, a playful reminder of the joy now absent from her house.

She reached out and picked up the doll, staring at its blank, buttonless eyes. A sudden emptiness constricted her chest. The attic, once just another space to clean, now felt like a mirror, reflecting an unfamiliar, unsettling absence.