Gemotions

He hadn't been expecting this. Michael, a man of routine and pragmatism, was clearing the attic of the house he’d just bought, when he stumbled upon a treasure trove of old photographs. They weren't his, clearly. Each sepia-toned image whispered of a different time, a different family.

He sat cross-legged on the dusty floor, sorting through them. A young woman in a flapper dress, laughing into the camera. A stern-faced man in a suit, holding a child. They were strangers, but their happiness and the love seemed to leak from the photo and reach him. He felt his throat tighten.

He found himself cradling a worn picture of a young couple, arms around each other. The woman's eyes were full of an unspoken longing. Michael sighed, picking up a pen and writing the date on the back of the photo. He decided that this batch of photographs was too lovely to throw away. He’d frame them and hang them in the guest room.