Gemotions

"This can't be right," Mark muttered, the words catching in his throat. He’d been expecting a standard cleanup, not a time capsule.

A box overflowing with letters, tied with faded ribbons. He should have just left it. He shouldn't have opened it.

The words leapt from the page, a torrent of secrets and whispers. He felt a cold shiver run through him. His chest tightened. He didn’t belong here, reading the private thoughts of a stranger. He dropped the box, the letters scattering across the floor. He turned and stumbled down the stairs, desperate to get away.