Gemotions

The afternoon sun streamed through the gaps in the blinds, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air. Emily’s hands, suddenly ice cold, clutched at the edge of the large wooden chest in the garage. She could feel her pulse quickening, a frantic rhythm in her ears. She hadn't expected this to be so difficult.

The thought of what lay inside made her want to retreat.

But she couldn’t. She took a shuddering breath and lifted the heavy lid. A musty smell of time and paper filled her nostrils, triggering memories.