Gemotions

The attic was a place she avoided. Too many memories, too much dust. But there it was, tucked away in an old trunk: a letter to her father. The words, written in a shaky hand, spilled across the page like a confession.

She sank to the floor, leaning against the cold, rough wood of the trunk. The letter felt heavy in her lap. A coldness spread through her limbs. She shivered, though the attic was warm.

She thought of her father, gone for years. A sense of unease settled over her, a deep and unsettling quiet. The silence was broken only by the frantic beat of her own heart.