Gemotions

The small, silver locket gleamed under the soft glow of the desk lamp. It was from Emily, a girl from his first class. He hadn't seen her since she graduated. He opened the locket, expecting a photograph, but found only a single, perfectly smooth, obsidian stone.

He ran a hand over his face. He checked the time on his watch. He felt the familiar weight of unease settle in his stomach. What was the meaning of this? He went from room to room, locking windows and doors.

The house felt too quiet, the air too still. The obsidian stone felt cold and heavy in his palm. He needed to get away, to walk, to clear his head. He pulled on a coat, and left.