Gemotions

The key, she'd found it wedged between the warped frame of a bookshelf and the wall, a useless, tarnished thing. Emily's stomach twisted. She felt such a profound sense of…displeasure at having to be the one to deal with this old house. It was her husband, David's, dream, not hers. He should be the one searching. She turned the key in the lock, the tumblers groaning in protest.

The door swung inward, revealing a small room, bathed in a dim, unnatural light. Her hands clenched at her sides. Sunlight had to be cut off from somewhere. She stepped inside, the floorboards cold beneath her bare feet. The air was thick, heavy, like the burden of her unwanted new life.