Gemotions

"Ugh," Clara muttered, the sound barely audible. Her body felt like it was encased in concrete. The thought of cleaning the kitchen alone was exhausting. The old house she had just bought came with a hidden inheritance: a dusty, unexplored attic.

She climbed the attic stairs slowly, each step a struggle. The air hung thick and stale. Sunlight struggled to penetrate the gloom. In the dimness, she located a stack of cardboard boxes.

The first box yielded a collection of handmade dolls. The dolls' glass eyes seemed to stare blankly at her. She felt an unsettling sensation, a feeling of unease that settled in her stomach. She quickly moved on to the next box, hoping to shake the feeling.