Gemotions

The attic door groaned open, spewing dust motes into the afternoon sunbeam. Martha coughed, waving a hand in front of her face. She'd been dreading this. The previous owners, a notoriously messy family, had left the house in a state. Finding something truly awful up here would have been the final straw.

She took a hesitant step inside. The air was thick and stagnant. Her stomach had been churning with anxiety all morning.

She spotted a stack of cardboard boxes in the dim light. She approached, her heart now pounding less furiously.

The first box contained old Christmas decorations, nothing more. A wave of relaxation washed over her, making her shoulders slump.