Gemotions

The attic’s stale air couldn't dampen Olivia's mood. She practically skipped up the stairs, eager to get started. Her mother’s dedication to archiving every single detail of her life was, in this instance, a source of amusement and delight. She was going on a delightful exploration.

She surveyed the boxes, imagining the treasures they held. It was like a game, a treasure hunt.

She unearthed a box labeled, “Art Class,” and her smile widened. She was a master archaeologist, discovering long lost worlds.

She pulled out a clay pot, lopsided and amateurish. Olivia burst into laughter, remembering the feeling of the clay between her fingers.