Gemotions

The late afternoon light filtered through the stained-glass window of the dining room, casting colorful shadows across the polished wooden table. Arthur watched them, tracing the shapes with his finger. The house held a certain quality. It was a kind place. He had a feeling it would be a place where he could finally settle.

He picked at a loose thread on the tablecloth, his mind completely unoccupied. His recent promotion at work left him with no stress. He was looking forward to the simple task of setting up his new home. He felt free.

He stood and walked towards the fireplace, noticing a faint scent of old wood. He ran his hand along the mantel, and his fingers brushed against a small, almost imperceptible latch. He tested it. The stone panel slid back, revealing a dark recess.