Gemotions

A tightening in Elias’s chest made him stop mid-stride. He’d been strolling through the park, trying to clear his head, when his foot kicked against something hard. He knelt, dusting off the object. It was a copper cylinder, sealed and heavy. An unsettling emptiness bloomed in his gut. He didn't know how it got there. He didn’t recognize the park's terrain as well, even though he visited it nearly every day.

He pried the lid off, his fingers fumbling with the unfamiliar mechanism. Inside, a collection of objects lay arranged with precise care: a small, smooth stone, a faded concert ticket, and a handwritten letter. The stone felt cold against his skin, a stark contrast to the sudden flush on his cheeks. He picked up the ticket. The band was one he'd never heard of.

The letter was addressed to himself. The handwriting was his, but the words… they were alien. *“Don’t give up, you’ll find your way,”* it read. He reread the words, his throat constricting. His vision blurred, and he felt a desperate urge to run, to escape the creeping sense of unreality.