Gemotions

He stared at the unearthed container, his face a mask of frozen awkwardness. It was a weather-beaten plastic container, the kind used for storing holiday decorations. He remembered the yard he'd purchased three weeks ago, but absolutely no memory of burying this thing. The unfamiliar script scrawled across the lid read, “Do Not Open Until 2024!”

He dragged it into the living room, a slow shuffle of uncertain steps. He sat on the floor, suddenly feeling the immense weight of the container. He pried it open and pulled out a CD. The label read, "My Band's Demo!" He almost wished for the earth to swallow him whole.

He cringed as he looked around the room, as if to make sure no one had seen him. He quickly shoved the contents back inside, the container back under the couch, and retreated to the backyard.