Gemotions

The attic door stuck. She heaved against it, her teeth clenched. Finally, with a loud POP, it swung inward, revealing a cluttered space. She squinted. She had expected clutter. What she hadn't expected was the sheer volume of it.

A chipped porcelain doll stared at her from the corner, one eye gone. She ignored it. She needed to assess the space. She’d promised her husband she’d get this done before dinner. He'd wanted this house for the extra room. Well, here was extra room, overflowing with other people’s junk.

She wasn't going to touch anything. Nope. She’d take a picture, send it to the realtor, and that would be that. She’d sit and have a cup of tea. She needed a cup of tea. She could use a cup of tea.