Gemotions

The musty scent of the attic choked Elias, but he refused to budge. He’d told his sister, Sarah, that he’d look for the box of old photographs. Now, rummaging through dusty trunks and discarded furniture, he had stumbled upon a weathered wooden box tucked away in the shadows. He’d told himself he’d just glance at the contents. Curiosity, or maybe guilt, gnawed at him. He pulled it open, sunlight slanting across the list typed in his mother’s familiar font. First item: "Learn to play the ukulele." He scowled, shoving the list back in the box. His mother hated music.