Gemotions

He grabbed a flashlight, its beam cutting through the gloom. The air felt charged, and a strange sensation started to build in his gut. A jitteriness. A nervous eagerness. He felt like a puppy. His name was Ben. He took another step into the attic, and another.

He found a dusty old trunk. His hands, acting on their own, reached for the latch. Inside, a collection of handwritten journals. He opened one, his eyes scanning the elegant script. He felt his pulse quicken as he read the first few lines.

He was lost in the words, the stories, the secrets. He found himself grinning like a fool. A wild energy surged through him. He couldn't get enough.