Gemotions

He ran his hand along the smooth surface of the mahogany rocking horse. The wood gleamed, despite the layer of dust. John had been dreading this attic clean-out, but now, he found himself lost in the past. It was a remarkable find.

He'd spent weeks making this house his own, remodeling the kitchen, painting the living room, and now he was getting to the final frontier. He took in the details of the horse’s painted eyes, the leather saddle, and the worn reins.

"Well, now," he chuckled to himself. "This is certainly better than the ratty old furniture they left downstairs." A sense of triumph bubbled up inside him. This wasn't just a house; it was a home with secrets.