Gemotions

The rusted metal box was half-buried in the overgrown backyard. Sarah, pulling weeds, stumbled upon it. Her fingers, already gritty with soil, recoiled as she pried it open. Inside, nestled in the damp earth, was a collection of relics from her adolescence. A smeared photo of her with braces, a half-eaten lollipop wrapper, a journal detailing crushes on boys she barely knew now. A wave of nausea rolled up her throat. She slammed the lid shut, her hand instinctively wiping across her jeans. She grabbed the shovel, heaving the time capsule back into its unwelcome grave.