Gemotions

The shovel struck something solid. Amelia knelt, brushing away the dirt with a gloved hand. A tarnished metal box lay half-buried. “Well, isn't this a curious thing?” she murmured, a chuckle bubbling in her chest. She pried it open, revealing a collection of childhood trinkets: a faded friendship bracelet, a Beanie Baby with one eye missing, and a crumpled note. She unfolded the paper, a slow smile spreading across her face as she read her childish scrawl, "I hope future me is rich and has a pony!" A light, giddy feeling danced in her stomach.