Gemotions

The flickering gas lamp cast long shadows across the dusty attic. Arthur’s stomach felt like it was doing somersaults. His Uncle Thomas, after years of resistance, had finally agreed to let go of the old maps.

He ran a hand over the spines, his fingers tracing the contours of the leather-bound covers. The maps were ancient and detailed, depicting lands unknown and oceans unexplored.

He envisioned studying them for hours, deciphering their secrets. He’d made an offer, and the answer was a simple, “Yes.”