Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows, mirroring the chaotic state of the unearthed backyard. Michael, covered in mud and grinning like a mischievous child, held up the tarnished metal container. He wiped the dirt away with the sleeve of his flannel shirt. "What in the world…?" he wondered aloud. A warm feeling bloomed in his chest.

He hauled the box inside, ignoring the muddy footprints he tracked across the hardwood floor. He set the box on the kitchen table, the only surface clear of tools and scattered paperwork. This was a mystery, a puzzle he hadn't known he'd created. He couldn't wait to see what lay inside.

He grabbed a screwdriver and, with a flourish, pried open the lid. A grin stretched across his face as he stared at the contents. A baseball card, a well-worn copy of “Dune”, a collection of shiny, smooth stones. A wave of fondness washed over him.