Gemotions

The forest path beckoned. Finn zipped up his jacket, the cool air biting at his cheeks. He’d spent the morning cleaning out the attic, a task that normally filled him with a sense of obligation. But today, as he prepared to tell his cousin about the sale of his great-grandmother’s music box, there was only a sense of lightness in his step. The responsibility felt… lighter.

He walked past the trees, listening to the birds chirp, the wind whistle. This was the place where he was at peace. He had always been told that this music box held the soul of her ancestor. But now he knew his great grandmother's soul did not live within the box, but within the memories of those who loved her.

The sunlight filtered through the leaves, creating dancing patterns on the ground. He had a job to do.