Gemotions

The silence of the afternoon was deafening. The ticking clock mocked him with its steady rhythm. He felt a profound sense of… lack. He paced his apartment, then finally went outside. He slumped onto a bench in the local park, his gaze fixed on the ground.

He began to idly kick at the dirt with his shoe, his movements slow and without purpose. Then, his foot struck something hard. He knelt, brushing away the soil to reveal a glass jar. Inside, he found a collection of trinkets and a small scroll. Unfurling the scroll, he read a poem, written in his own hand. He had no memory of any of this.