Gemotions

The afternoon sun blazed through the office window, but Mark felt a chill deep in his bones. The spreadsheet on his screen blurred before his eyes. The endless cycle of data entry had drained him. He leaned back in his chair, trying to alleviate the oppressive weight that had settled on his shoulders. He felt utterly depleted.

He'd been asked to clear out the storage room, a task delegated to him because no one else wanted to. The room was a mess of forgotten equipment and discarded files. He stumbled over a loose floorboard. After righting himself, he noticed a section of the concrete floor that appeared darker. Underneath, he found a metal container, partially exposed. The date on it was from his own childhood. He didn't remember ever making this.

He frowned, leaning closer. What secrets did this buried object hold?