Gemotions

The unearthed box, a dull metallic gleam in the twilight, was met with a dismissive glance. Arthur tilted his head, a gesture of silent disapproval.

He opened the lid and found a collection of old toys and a drawing. The drawing, a poorly executed self-portrait, was particularly offensive. He couldn’t even bring himself to look at it.

He poked around the items inside with distaste. The quality of the toys was terrible. The whole thing was just a reminder of who he used to be.

He closed the lid, his face a mask of indifference. He should have known that his younger self would be just as tiresome as the present version of him.