Gemotions

The shovel struck something hard, a definite resistance in the soft earth. Sarah knelt, brushing away the loose soil with a gloved hand. A metal box, dented and caked with mud, emerged. She stared at it, a knot tightening in her stomach. It wasn't the thrill of discovery, but a deep, unplaceable ache. She didn't recognize it. The handwriting scrawled across the lid was vaguely familiar, a spidery script, but it might as well have been hieroglyphics. She sighed, a puff of condensation blooming in the crisp autumn air. Her breath hitched slightly. The leaves swirling around her feet seemed to echo the confusion churning inside her.