Gemotions

The scent of old paper and mothballs filled the air as David explored the cedar chest in his grandmother's attic. He sat on the floor, legs stretched out, his back supported by the cool wood. He felt a profound sense of lethargy, each movement requiring a conscious effort.

He'd spent the entire morning sifting through his grandmother's belongings. It had been an emotional, yet strangely exhausting process. He kept putting things down to catch his breath.

Beneath a pile of embroidered handkerchiefs, he found a slim, folded piece of paper. It was his grandmother's handwriting, delicate and elegant. He almost didn't have the strength to unfold it.