Gemotions

The rusted metal box felt strangely familiar under Elias’s gloved hands. He'd been digging in his new backyard, attempting to put in a flowerbed, when the shovel struck something solid. Now, brushing away the clinging dirt, he lifted the lid. Inside, nestled amongst yellowed newspaper clippings and a chipped ceramic mug, was a worn copy of *Moby Dick* and a small, tarnished silver locket. He held the locket up to the sunlight, his breath catching in his throat. He had no recollection of ever owning it. A low whistle escaped his lips.

He picked up the book. The pages were brittle, fragile, but the inscription on the inside cover, in his own handwriting, was unmistakable. “For the future. Remember me." The words swirled in his mind. He sank to his knees, utterly bewildered.