Gemotions

The small, rectangular container was surprisingly heavy. John sat at the kitchen table, the object resting before him. He’d unearthed it in his backyard, a routine gardening project interrupted by the telltale sound of metal on metal. He had no idea what it was.

Inside, were several items. A small, tarnished silver charm, a faded map, and a collection of coins. He picked up the map, tracing the lines with his finger. It depicted a location in his hometown, somewhere he hadn’t visited in years. He examined the coins, the dates on the faces, wondering about the time and place of their journey.

He put the items on the table, and sat in silence, the gentle ticking of the clock the only sound in the room. He felt no urge to rush. He'd open the map and try to understand what he felt.