Gemotions

"Are you alright, Dad?" The small voice of his daughter, Lily, startled Arthur. He’d been slumped against the ancient oak tree in his backyard, staring at a patch of disturbed earth. His limbs felt sluggish, each movement an effort. He’d unearthed a metal cylinder earlier, an hour ago, he thought? Time seemed to stretch and compress strangely. He found himself blinking slowly, struggling to keep his eyes open.

"Just… tired, sweetheart," he mumbled, his voice thick. He patted the damp soil with a weary hand. Lily knelt beside him, her face creased with concern. He hadn’t touched the cylinder; the thought of opening it felt… overwhelming. It sat there, a silent challenge in the fading light. He leaned back against the tree, the rough bark digging into his back. The world seemed muffled, distant. He just wanted to close his eyes for a moment. Just a moment.