Gemotions

He didn’t expect to find anything. Michael, surveying the overgrown plot behind his new house, had simply been clearing weeds. Then, the shovel hit metal. The container was small, unremarkable, almost swallowed by the earth. He pulled it free, a rectangular tin with a loose lid. Inside, he found a single, dried rose, carefully preserved. A lump formed in his throat. He remembered the scent of roses, the soft curve of a loved one's hand. He held the dried bloom gently, the petals crumbling slightly beneath his touch. A sense of profound connection filled the air around him.