Gemotions

Dust motes danced in the single ray of sunlight piercing the shed's gloom. Amelia knelt, her hands brushing over the tarnished metal box. It was buried, she realized with a strange lurch of her stomach, beneath the old swing set. Why was it here? Had she done this? A wave of confusion washed over her. She certainly didn't remember.

She lifted the lid. Inside, nestled in yellowed tissue paper, was a photograph. A younger version of herself, smiling widely. She squinted. The girl in the photo looked happy, carefree. A pang of something akin to envy struck her.

Carefully, she reached for the small, leather-bound diary next. Its pages were filled with a looping script, almost indecipherable. She flipped through the pages, a frown creasing her brow. Who was this person? What had they been writing about? She closed the diary, a sense of disconnect swirling within her.