Gemotions

He ran a hand over his face, smearing the grime of the day across his skin. The new house was a disaster, a constant source of frustration. Paint chips littered the floor of the master bedroom, and the plumbing was already acting up. He just wanted to sit down, to simply *be*. But the demands kept coming.

He'd been meaning to inspect the attic, but the stairs seemed to have grown a thousand miles long. It was getting dark. He'd put it off long enough. Resigned, he started the ascent, each step a minor victory.

He tripped on a loose floorboard in the attic and stumbled, grabbing for something to steady himself. His hand landed on the wall, and the panel gave way with a hollow *thunk*. He stood, blinking in the dim light, the adrenaline a temporary shot in the arm. He peered into the opening. It was narrow, just big enough to crawl through. He hesitated.