Gemotions

A deep breath, and then John pushed open the attic door. The climb up the pull-down stairs was easier than it had been in years. Yesterday’s argument with his wife felt like a distant rumble. He felt buoyant, like a balloon slowly rising.

He expected dust and disappointment. Instead, he found a treasure trove. A stack of old vinyl records, their covers faded but intact, called to him. He grinned.

He noticed an old, leather-bound journal tucked beneath a stack of moth-eaten blankets. He carefully blew off the dust, eager to read whatever stories lay within. He felt a warmth in his chest as he settled himself amongst the forgotten items.