Gemotions

She leaned against the newly revealed doorway, her arms crossed, the cold seeping through her denim jacket. The room was small, cramped, but felt vast in its hiddenness. A forgotten history. She ran a hand along the peeling wallpaper, its faded floral pattern offering a silent, unspoken narrative.

“Just like the rest of the house,” she murmured, the sound swallowed by the silence. It had been a month since the move, and the novelty of her new surroundings was wearing thin. Everything felt… surface-level.

Her gaze drifted toward a dusty, unopened trunk in the corner. She hadn't expected this, not really. Another layer to peel back. And she was *hungry* for layers.