Gemotions

The shovel hit something solid, a dull thud that vibrated up Elias's arm. He’d been aimlessly digging in the overgrown patch behind his house, a place he usually avoided. He wasn't sure why he'd started, just the feeling of lead in his limbs urging him to do *something*, anything, other than sit inside and stare at the ceiling. He dropped to his knees, scraping away the dirt with his hands. A rusted metal box emerged, mud clinging to its surface. He pried it open, a cloud of stale air escaping. Inside, a faded photo of a smiling, younger version of himself stared back. A wave of disorientation washed over him. He had no memory of any of this.