Gemotions

The attic was stifling, the air thick with the smell of mothballs and forgotten things. Sam had climbed up here, hoping to find some answers in his family history, but the faded photographs and dusty keepsakes only intensified his agitation. He had a half-sister. The news had sent him spiraling.

He flipped through a photo album, the images blurring before his eyes. He couldn't concentrate, his mind racing, jumping from thought to thought. He felt his pulse quicken. He needed to be *out* of here, away from the suffocating weight of the past.

He slammed the album shut, the sound echoing in the confined space. He stumbled back, knocking over a stack of old boxes. The dust swirled around him, choking him. He had to go, he couldn’t stay.