Gemotions

The small, tarnished metal box, unearthed in the basement, seemed to vibrate with ill omen. Claire examined its contents, the past suddenly a murky, unwelcome stranger. She’d spent years perfecting her image, erasing everything that didn’t fit.

Inside, a collection of mismatched buttons, a crumpled love letter, and a small, ceramic dog. She hated ceramic dogs. The love letter was written in a handwriting that was undeniably hers. The ceramic dog seemed to sneer.

Her husband, Daniel, peered over her shoulder. "What's that? Anything good?" he asked, casual. Claire slammed the lid shut. “Just some junk,” she said, her voice tight. She walked out of the room.