Gemotions

He stretched, his back popping in a way it hadn't since college. The attic room, once his teenage domain, felt…different. Not cramped, not dusty, but *open*. Sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating swirling dust motes that danced in the air. He pushed the window open, breathing in the crisp morning air, smelling the pine trees behind his parent's home.

A memory flashed: him, younger, reading under this very same window. A book in his hands, adventure on his mind. He found a smile tugging at his lips, a feeling in his chest like the first sip of cool water on a summer's day.

His father called from downstairs, "Breakfast's ready, son! Come and get it!" And he bounded down the stairs, eager for the day.