Gemotions

"Are you *sure* this is the spot?" Mark asked, his voice strained. He'd been pacing the overgrown backyard for ten minutes, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. His wife, Emily, had found the clues, an old Polaroid and a cryptic note, in a box of his childhood belongings. He didn't remember any of this. He glanced at the faded picture: a younger, considerably more carefree version of himself, smiling in front of a giant oak tree. He really just wanted to know what was in the thing. He let out a frustrated huff.