Gemotions

The forest smelled of freshly turned earth and decaying leaves, a familiar scent now tainted with a bitter tang of loss. He walked through the trees, his boots crunching on the fallen debris, toward the place where he had buried his time capsule. His hands, clenched into fists, felt ice-cold, despite the late summer heat.

He saw the stump from a distance, a solid, brutal shape against the dappled sunlight. He stopped dead, his breath catching in his throat. He felt the blood draining from his face. All the memories, all the secrets he'd entrusted to the earth, were now gone, obliterated.

He ran a hand over his face, scrubbing at it as though he could erase the image. He sank to his knees, his body wracked by a sudden, violent shudder. He looked down and just started pulling, pulling at the ground, frantic and unable to stop.