Gemotions

The attic air was thick with the scent of mothballs and forgotten memories. Daniel, surrounded by the remnants of his parents’ lives, felt a familiar pressure in his chest. Cleaning out the house had become a monumental chore. All the stuff, all the memories...it was too much to manage.

He picked up a book, *The Old Curiosity Shop*, its cover warped and peeling. A small, carefully folded note fell out.

*They say time heals, but I have found only the illusion of movement. I am where I was.* Daniel felt a chill despite the stuffy heat. He set the letter down and resumed his task. There was nothing else to do.