Gemotions

The wind whistled through the empty lot, carrying with it a symphony of dead leaves. Sarah held the box gingerly. Its metallic skin was cold and foreign against her skin. She had moved to this town hoping to escape her past. This discovery felt like a direct assault, a cruel joke. She pulled the lid open and peered inside.

Inside were a collection of pressed wildflowers, a small, silver locket, and a sketch of a smiling face. She felt a tightening in her chest, a sudden inability to breathe. The smile in the sketch was a mirror to her own, from a time that seemed impossibly distant. She could almost hear the echo of a laughter that she had completely forgotten.