Gemotions

The ocean wind whipped at Maya's hair as she stood on the desolate beach, the setting sun painting the sky in fiery hues. She clutched the small, waterlogged box, its contents a mystery she couldn't place. The ocean’s roar seemed to mock her, a constant, indifferent sound. She remembered walking here, driven by a nameless compulsion, a pressure behind her eyes. Now, the tide threatened to claim her discovery. She kicked at the sand, sending a spray of white froth into the air. What did she want to forget?