Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows, mimicking the agitated drumming in Elias’s chest. He pulled his threadbare coat tighter, hunching his shoulders as he trudged through the overgrown park. His boots squelched with each step, the familiar sound doing little to soothe him. He’d promised himself he'd do something, *anything* to shake off the inertia clinging to him, so he picked this godforsaken walk.

He stumbled, catching himself on the gnarled trunk of an ancient oak. That’s when he saw it: a patch of disturbed earth, roughly circular, half-covered by a rusted metal lid. He crouched, his bones protesting the sudden movement. Curiosity, a forgotten sensation, flickered within him. He pried it open and peered into the darkness.

Inside, nestled amongst damp earth, lay a small, tarnished metal box. He didn't recognise the handwriting on the label, but the name was his.