Gemotions

Sweat beaded on Elias's forehead as he scraped away the last layer of dirt. A tarnished metal box lay revealed, its surface scarred with rust. He knew he'd been digging in his grandmother's rose garden, but… the memory felt distant, like a dream. He didn't recall ever participating in any sort of burying ceremony. His heart hammered against his ribs. This was wrong. Utterly wrong.

He brushed the dirt from his hands, feeling a tremor run through them. Curiosity warred with a prickling sensation at the back of his neck. Hesitantly, he lifted the lid. Inside, nestled amongst yellowed newspaper, was a photograph of him – younger, smiling, with a girl he couldn't quite place. He dropped the lid with a clang, a strangled sound escaping his lips.