Gemotions

The shovel struck metal with a resounding clang. Liam, sweat beading on his forehead, pulled the box from the earth. Dust motes danced in the shaft of light illuminating the contents: a meticulously crafted wooden birdhouse, a collection of smooth, colorful stones, and a faded photograph of him, a skinny teenager, grinning. He swallowed hard, a lump forming in his throat. He'd forgotten about this. Each object was a whisper of a forgotten dream, a testament to simpler times. The world seemed less complicated, less heavy. He tucked the birdhouse under his arm, a wide grin breaking across his face. He'd make sure it got put up in the front yard.