Gemotions

The attic air hung thick and dusty, catching in Eleanor’s throat. She ran a hand over the spines of the books, the worn leather cool against her palm. Years of cataloging, of collecting first editions, now felt… heavy. She glanced at the half-finished inventory she'd started last week, the meticulous handwriting suddenly irritating. A familiar hum, a building pressure in her chest, urged her to move, to *do* something. Downstairs, she heard Leo’s excited shouts. He was at it again, engrossed in the comic book illustrations, recreating scenes with his action figures. Eleanor sighed, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. Maybe she’d join him.