Gemotions

The old house creaked and groaned in the wind, a soundtrack to Ethan's relentless insomnia. He wandered through the dark rooms, feeling the weight of the past pressing down on him. His wife, Maya, had adored this place. Now, it was just a shell of memories. He went to the basement, a space he rarely frequented. There was a section he had been avoiding since Maya's death. He noticed a slight, uneven patch in the concrete floor.

He started to pry away the concrete, finding a small, metal box underneath. The lid was held shut with a simple latch. Inside, a worn photograph of him and Maya, laughing, and a dried flower. It was the flower she had carried on their wedding day. He felt his chest tighten, his breath coming in shallow gasps.