Gemotions

The stairs seemed unusually steep. Emily forced herself upwards, each step a struggle. She felt the day's events weighing her down. She really wasn't in the mood.

The attic's dim light revealed a collection of old toys. She ran a hand over a rocking horse, its paint chipped and faded. She opened a small wooden train set.

She picked up a tiny conductor, the paint long gone. The details, despite their age, seemed so careful. A flicker of something, something other than the usual, passed through her. She felt like sitting down on the floor and playing.