Gemotions

He found it while clearing out his late grandmother's attic. A small, wooden box, meticulously crafted, and utterly foreign to him. He'd never seen it before. He hadn’t touched anything in that attic in years. Yet, his name was carved into the lid.

His palms began to sweat as he carefully lifted the lid. The contents were few: a child’s drawing, a dried flower, and a small, worn book. He recognized the drawings as his, from when he was very young.

The book contained a single, handwritten story. A story about a secret and an act of selfishness. The realization of what he had done slammed into him. He felt hollowed out.