Gemotions

Dust motes danced in the shaft of sunlight illuminating the time capsule in the abandoned attic. Sarah, perched precariously on a rickety chair, carefully examined the contents. Everything was familiar, yet alien. A worn copy of a book she loved in high school, a mix tape labelled with a childish scrawl, and a collection of tiny, painted wooden animals.

She carefully unwrapped a small clay pot. Inside, a scattering of dried rose petals. A soft smile graced her lips. The air was thick with the scent of aged wood and the faint fragrance of the roses. She felt a lightness, as though she could float.

Sarah carefully packed everything back. Then, she pushed the box back against the wall, and left. She felt a profound contentment that was almost a physical sensation.