Gemotions

The sunlight beat down as Daniel brushed the dirt from the corroded container. It was in the backyard, near the old oak tree that had since been struck by lightning. Inside, a collection of childhood trinkets, a faded diary, and a lock of hair. He read the diary entries, the handwriting familiar, yet the sentiments felt distant. “I will be a famous inventor!” the childish scrawl declared. He chuckled, a humorless sound. He wasn't even remotely close. He dropped the diary back into the box, its pages brittle. He looked at the vast lawn, his gaze vacant. He had become comfortable in the quiet life he was leading, and the contents of the box only served as a reminder of aspirations he no longer entertained.