Gemotions

The attic's dimness seemed to amplify the silence. A profound sense of emptiness filled the space. I'd been hoping for inspiration, a spark of interest in the things of the past, but now all I felt was a desire to rest.

A single, antique mirror leaned against the wall, its frame intricately carved. I approached it, my footsteps muffled by the dust. I stared at my reflection, my features soft, unfocused.

I thought about the past residents who had owned the mirror. I wondered about their lives, their joys and sorrows. But the effort of imagining felt difficult, too much to deal with. I turned away, the mirror's image fading. I needed rest.