Gemotions

The attic stairs groaned under David's weight. He wished he'd brought a second light. He felt a knot in his stomach he couldn't quite place. He’d planned to use the space for storage, but the realtor hadn't warned him of anything like this.

He noticed a stack of old letters tied with a faded ribbon. He hesitated, then picked them up. The handwriting was elegant, unfamiliar. He scanned a few lines, reading about lost loves and broken promises. He slowly lowered the stack to the floor.

A chill ran down his spine. The past felt suddenly present. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know the people who had lived in this house. The feeling of wrongness was overwhelming. He just wanted to be done.