Gemotions

It sat on the counter, next to the mail and a half-eaten container of takeout noodles. The realtor had left it; a small wooden box discovered during the renovations of his new home. The note attached read, “Found this buried in the backyard. Thought it might be yours.” The handwriting was unfamiliar.

He examined the box, turning it over in his hands. It was old, the wood warped with time. He opened it. Inside, a collection of letters, a pressed flower, and a small, tarnished key. He picked up one of the letters, scanned the first few lines, and set it down.

He walked over to the window and looked out at the street. The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the lawn. He closed the box and placed it back on the counter, right where he found it.