Gemotions

Michael grinned, a wide, unrestrained grin that stretched across his face. He’d found the attic the previous week and had only been able to peek inside. He was now fully intending to make a proper discovery of the space. The rickety wooden stairs groaned under his weight as he climbed. At the top, he paused, surveying the jumbled collection of forgotten objects.

He rubbed his hands together and took a deep breath, like a child about to open a mountain of presents. A forgotten rocking horse, its paint chipped and faded, caught his eye. He gave it a gentle push. He then ran over to a dusty old gramophone. He imagined what music this object must have once played. He began humming a ridiculous tune, his imagination running wild.