Gemotions

The attic felt cool against her skin as Emily entered, the afternoon sun casting long shadows. Yesterday's anxieties, the weight of the day, seemed to have evaporated. A newfound pep was noticeable as she skipped up the stairs.

She spied an old wooden box hidden beneath a pile of discarded furniture. Her pulse quickened. Inside, nestled amongst tissue paper, were a collection of old photographs. Smiling faces, unfamiliar, yet strangely familiar.

She sat cross-legged on the dusty floor, sorting through them. Her lips curved upward in a smile. She lost all track of time in the attic.