Gemotions

The cold seeped into his bones, even through the layers of his winter coat. He was forced to help clear the accumulated junk that had piled up in his deceased father’s garden. The old man had never kept a tidy garden. It was a chore, but he felt obligated.

As he was digging up some weeds he had no recollection of planting, his shovel struck something hard. He pulled it from the earth, and saw it was a small metal box. A time capsule. He didn't recognize it.

He opened it, and it revealed a letter from his father, to him. It read, "I hope you are happy and thriving." He slammed the box shut, the words hanging in the air. His hands clenched into fists, his knuckles white.