Gemotions

The wind whipped around his face, carrying with it the scent of the sea. James, a retired sailor, stood on the cliff overlooking the harbor. He had stumbled upon the box while digging in his garden. It was buried deep and the rust was a vivid red. He’d only been trying to plant some tomatoes, the soil soft from the recent rains.

Inside, he found a collection of nautical charts, each carefully annotated with details he didn’t recognize. There was also a small, wooden ship in a bottle, his name carved into its base. He ran a hand across the smooth glass, his expression blank. He’d spent his life at sea. But the charts, the ship… none of it sparked a memory. The familiar ache of the ocean air suddenly became suffocating.