Gemotions

The cool, damp earth yielded easily beneath the shovel, revealing the time capsule. It was nestled amongst the roots of a towering oak, in a corner of the park she often visited. Clara felt an overwhelming sense of well-being as she brushed the soil from its surface. Everything felt perfect.

She opened it, revealing a collection of letters. Letters to her future self, written in a spidery, familiar hand. She sat down on the grass and began to read, her face softening with each word.

As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the park, she leaned back against the oak, a gentle smile on her face. A feeling of profound and effortless ease had washed over her.