Gemotions

The archaeologist, Dr. Aris Thorne, felt a distinct lack of comprehension. He stood before the open pit, the earth giving up its secrets once again. He’d spent his life uncovering the past. This time, however, the past had become deeply personal. The small, tarnished metal box contained a handwritten journal, the pages brittle with age.

His own name, scrawled across the cover, felt like a cruel joke. He flipped through the book, the ink fading in places. The entries detailed a young man’s aspirations, his fears, his hopes for the future. He recognized the youthful idealism, the raw, unfiltered emotions. He found nothing he could place. He felt a disconnect, a profound unfamiliarity. He lowered the journal, the world seeming to tilt. He had buried this?