Gemotions

"Well, that's not supposed to be there," muttered Finn. He'd been renovating the old house he'd inherited. He'd just ripped up some floorboards in the attic, and there, nestled amongst the insulation, was a small, ornate box. His shoulders slumped as he knelt down.

He opened it, finding a single, tarnished silver locket. He tried to remember. It felt like a dream. He lifted it and pressed the release, revealing a tiny portrait. It was him. With a girl. He blinked rapidly, then looked down at his own hands. Where had this come from?