Gemotions

The attic light barely penetrated the gloom. The previous owners, bless their hearts, had left a treasure trove of… junk. A chipped vase, a broken radio, and a collection of yellowed letters tied with a frayed ribbon.

A wave of… disbelief washed over her. Could they have been any more careless? She was starting to feel a growing sense of… displeasure.

She poked at a dusty, forgotten toy, a broken ballerina that, she was certain, had once belonged to a cherished child.

She balled her fists. The utter lack of consideration was enough to make her want to scream. She took a deep, controlled breath.

She reached for a trash bag. "Fine," she said, her voice tight. "Let's begin."