John held his breath as he opened the box. The night before the social worker took John away, twenty years ago, he buried this box and vowed not to return until he was ready to face his deepest fears.

John always kept this box buried in the field behind his home. Occasionally, he would dig it up, sift through the items, and drop in another. He knew that this would, eventually, remind him of a happier childhood. The mental map of the box's location was never erased from John’s mind. Nor were the memories of its contents.

As the lid cracked open, John was hit with a wave of emotions. A picture of his first love produced a smile. The smile began to fade with the unearthing of each memento. As the tears began to fill the box, the sins of his family were washed clean. Through his stream of tears, a flash flood of forgiveness engulfed John’s heart. John slowly closed the lid and buried the box for the last time.

Want to comment on this Flash Fiction? Sign up to Edit Red and you will be able to comment on Flash Fiction and get access to: Upload your own stories and poems, get readers and their feedback, promote your work...