Gemotions

The antique oak chest in the attic was practically calling her name. Amelia, humming a jaunty tune, pried it open with a satisfying creak. Dust motes danced in the lone sunbeam slicing through the gloom. She’d been meaning to explore this space for months, and now, finally, the afternoon was hers. She had a feeling she was going to find something interesting, something… important.

Deep within, nestled amongst moth-eaten shawls and faded photographs, lay a small, leather-bound notebook. She recognized her partner, Leo’s, precise handwriting. A smile played on her lips as she opened it.

The first entry: "Learn to tango." Amelia tilted her head. She, of course, had already mastered the tango. Well, mostly.