Gemotions

The attic’s entrance seemed miles away. He trudged towards the stairs, each step demanding a conscious effort. The prospect of what lay beyond filled him with a quiet dread. He’d felt like this all day.

The space was filled with a dusty silence. He surveyed the scene, his eyelids heavy. A heavy trunk sat in the corner, and the task of opening it felt like an insurmountable challenge.

He noticed a small wooden box tucked away. He opened it, to find a collection of hand-drawn pictures. As he looked at each one, he saw a spark of some old imagination. A smile finally graced his face.