Gemotions

The sun was setting, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple. Lisa sat on her porch swing, watching the world go by. The gentle rhythm of the swing and the soft chirping of crickets lulled her into a state of peaceful contemplation. She felt settled. She was home.

A loud noise came from the attic. It sounded like something had tumbled down. She scrunched her nose, her easy feelings evaporating.

She pushed herself off the swing. She marched toward the house. The stairs were old but solid beneath her feet. The attic was dimly lit.

She saw them. A collection of old books, stacked high against the wall. She smiled, feeling the stirrings of joy.