Gemotions

The desert sun beat down on Mark as he dug. He was on a archaeological dig, and a colleague discovered a metal container with a simple marking on it. It said "Hope". When the container was opened, Mark looked inside, and a wave of uncertainty washed over him.

He’d unearthed something out of place— a lone, ceramic tile, the kind you would see in a kitchen. On it, in meticulous detail, was a drawing of a person. A person he knew. A person he'd loved. It was a strange premonition, this discovery, that left him grappling for understanding. He ran a hand through his hair.

He felt an unsettling disconnect, as though his past had become a foreign country. He stared at the tile, a vague unease settling in his chest. A memory flickered in the corner of his mind.