Gemotions

The sun beat down on the freshly tilled soil. Mark, sweating in the summer heat, wiped his brow, the shovel clanking against something solid. He'd decided to start a vegetable garden, and the first step was clearing the land behind his house.

He pulled the object out of the ground: a small, weathered box. He examined it, puzzled, recognizing nothing. He felt a wave of sadness. He had no recollection of burying it, but it clearly held someone's memories.

Inside, there was a collection of photographs, a pressed flower, and a small, engraved locket. He gently lifted the locket, his fingers tracing the delicate carving. The locket opened, revealing a tiny portrait. He felt a pang of sorrow, a deep desire to comfort the person who had left it, the person who had trusted the future.