Gemotions

"Anything?" The police officer's voice was a distant echo. James leaned against the fence, his head swimming. He’d been digging in his backyard, following a vague instinct. It was an hour ago, or perhaps longer. He wasn't sure. Time had lost all meaning. He'd unearthed a metal box, and now the police were here, investigating. He couldn't remember burying it. He couldn't remember anything.

The sun beat down on him, and his shirt felt heavy, sticking to his skin. He felt a deep desire to simply… cease. He closed his eyes for a moment, the world momentarily dissolving into darkness. When he opened them, the officer was still there, asking questions. He felt a surge of irritation at the intrusion. “I don’t know,” he mumbled, his voice a gravelly whisper. “I just don’t know.” He pointed a sluggish finger at the box.