Gemotions

He'd been up here for hours, and the sun was already starting to dip below the horizon. John slumped against a dusty trunk, his back aching. The attic's contents were an enigma, a puzzle he hadn't anticipated. A set of antique tools, each carefully arranged in its own wooden box. A collection of antique maps, meticulously rolled and tied. A single, tarnished silver locket. He felt a strange pull, an almost magnetic attraction to the objects. He blinked rapidly, and took a deep breath. This was a lot.