Gemotions

The attic was a labyrinth of shadows and dust. The smell of decay was almost overwhelming. It mirrored the feeling of hollowness in John's chest. He felt like he had nothing left to give.

He unearthed a small wooden chest, its surface intricately carved. Inside, nestled on a bed of faded velvet, was a collection of antique buttons. He picked one up, a tiny pearl, and ran his thumb over its smooth surface.

He picked up the chest and walked down the stairs, and threw it off the back of his property. The sound of it hitting the ground was a small, quiet burst.