Gemotions

The sun beat down on the cracked pavement as Maya walked through the park, her pace slow, her shoulders slumped. The world seemed washed out, drained of color. She felt the heavy chains of fatigue weighing her down, making each step an effort.

She sat on a bench, looking at the dried-up fountain. Her eyes caught on something poking out from the ground near the base of the fountain. A metal box, half-buried. She picked it up, feeling a strange mix of detachment and... what? Curiosity?

Inside, she found a collection of handwritten poems, a small, polished stone, and a single, un-sent postcard. She felt a sharp, sudden pang of loss as she read the words.