Gemotions

The flashlight beam danced erratically, illuminating cobwebs and dust bunnies. He hated the dust, the feeling of it clinging to his skin. He felt uneasy, alone in the bowels of his new home. He wasn't sure why he felt like this.

An old record player sat in the corner, covered in a thick layer of grime. Beside it, a stack of vinyl records. He cautiously picked one up, wiping off the dust. The label read, "Moments of Joy."

He carefully placed the record on the turntable, and the familiar hiss of static filled the attic. Then, music. A jaunty, upbeat tune filled the space, and he was quickly transported. He felt a sudden, sharp ache for something he couldn't name.