Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows of the cottage. Liam hunched over the unearthed container, its metal surface pitted and scarred. He'd been digging for hours, fueled by a mixture of curiosity and a deep, gnawing dissatisfaction with the present. The discovery felt like a cruel joke, a taunt from a past he couldn’t even recall.

He pried the lid open, the hinges groaning in protest. Inside, neatly stacked, were his old school books. *Of course.* A collection of poetry by his favorite authors filled him with an unexpected, burning irritation. He hadn't touched a book in years. The air in the room felt suddenly thick, suffocating. He’d hoped for… something. Anything but this.

He saw the drawings. They were childish and amateurish, but at the same time, they were full of dreams. His drawings. The younger him. He threw it all back into the chest, the contents rattling. He slammed the lid shut.