Gemotions

The climb to the attic left me feeling drained. Each step was a chore. My eyes struggled to stay open, and I rubbed them hard, trying to stay alert. The air up here was close and warm, and a strange quiet settled over me as I surveyed the room.

Boxes sat piled haphazardly, overflowing with forgotten belongings. I had promised myself I would clear out the detritus of past residents. The idea of sifting through the clutter made me sigh. My head felt thick, full of cotton.

I saw a small, ornate wooden box tucked behind a larger trunk. I pulled it towards me, the effort exhausting. Its lid was locked. The thought of needing to search for a key was a bridge too far. I let it rest on the floor.