Gemotions

The rusty metal container, pulled from the depths of the abandoned well, held a diary. Inside, the handwriting was youthful and familiar, yet the stories were new. It was her own past, yet so alien. She found an entry describing a quiet picnic by a lake, a shared blanket, a hand held tightly. Each sentence pulsed with adoration for a partner, who was, to her present self, completely unknown. A flush warmed her cheeks. She felt a lightness in her chest, a desire to protect the tender joy within the pages.