Gemotions

The shovel slipped in David’s hand, nearly sending him sprawling. The damp earth clung to his boots, adding to his already overwhelming irritation. He hadn’t slept properly in days. This whole thing was… unsettling. He kept glancing nervously towards the house, as if expecting someone to emerge.

He straightened up, wiping his brow with the back of his hand, leaving a smear of dirt. His back ached. The sun beat down mercilessly. He felt like his skin was stretched too tight.

The box was finally exposed. He pried it open and found it empty except for a small, intricately carved wooden bird. He stared at it, a cold dread creeping through him. He didn’t recognize the object. He didn’t recognize anything. He closed the box, and buried it again.