Gemotions

“Well, this is just odd,” Mark muttered, staring at the assortment of mismatched shoes scattered across the attic floor. He’d expected furniture, not a bizarre shoe collection.

He picked up a worn leather boot, turning it over in his hands. It felt heavy, the leather cracked with age. He saw a tiny metal object, and pulled it out. It was a miniature compass.

The room seemed to shrink, the objects becoming alien and somehow significant. Mark ran a hand through his hair, a feeling of bewilderment washing over him. What was the connection between these things? Why had they been left?