Gemotions

The attic felt like a furnace, the air heavy and stagnant. Emily hated attics. She felt a prickle of discomfort as she surveyed the contents: a stack of dusty board games, a chipped rocking horse, and a collection of bizarre ceramic figurines.

One figurine, a grotesque, grinning clown, held her gaze. It was positioned on top of a stack of old newspapers, their headlines chronicling a string of unexplained disappearances. She looked away, her heart beginning to pound in her chest.

She felt a strange sense of unease settle over her, an unbidden knowledge that she was intruding on something dark and personal. She fled from the attic, leaving the clown and the newspapers behind, vowing never to return. She slammed the door to the attic, breathing heavily.