Gemotions

The old farm, a place of peace, had become a place of dread. Michael, renovating his newly purchased property, unearthed a time capsule in the barn. He opened it, his curiosity quickly turning to dread. Inside, he found a crudely drawn map of the property and a series of cryptic notes.

The notes, in a handwriting he didn't recognise, but felt was somehow his, described a series of events, some of them vague, but others terribly specific. They detailed a future of isolation, marred by loss and an unbearable sense of guilt. He walked the property, matching the map to the real world. The trees seemed to whisper secrets, their leaves rustling a morbid symphony.

He stared at the ground, a cold sweat breaking across his brow. He felt as if an invisible weight had settled on his shoulders, crushing him under its pressure. He felt a deep, profound sadness, a kind of weariness that went to the core of his being.