Gemotions

He stared at the small, unassuming metal cylinder emerging from the earth. Deep, ragged breaths escaped his lips. The cold sweat prickled across his forehead. This couldn't be happening. He hadn't been to this abandoned construction site in years. Why would he have buried something here? The vague familiarity of the location grated against him, like a forgotten nightmare.

He grabbed the cylinder, his knuckles white. The metal felt ice-cold against his skin. A knot formed in his stomach. What if it was a bomb? Or worse? The thought of some forgotten, terrible act he'd committed, locked away in this metal container, pressed down on him.

He slammed the cylinder against a nearby rock. The lid popped open, and a scattering of letters and photographs spilled onto the dusty ground. He knelt, hands trembling, and began to pick them up, unable to believe what he was seeing.