Gemotions

The air was thick with humidity, clinging to Emily like a second skin. Her steps were slow, her gaze vacant, as she wandered through a forgotten corner of her backyard. The sun, a hazy disc behind the clouds, offered no warmth. She was swamped in the day's heaviness.

She tripped over something buried in the soft earth. She paused, then, with a long sigh, started digging. She unearthed a small, tin box. She had no recollection of it. Or its purpose. She opened it and examined the contents.

Inside were a couple of colorful glass marbles and a faded copy of a childhood book. The marbles and book brought forth no recognition, no spark of nostalgia. She closed the box and looked at the ground. She was incredibly tired.