Gemotions

The old house creaked around her as she examined the time capsule. It was her grandmother's attic, where she'd been clearing out clutter. The box was hidden under a pile of moth-eaten blankets. The name and date on the lid were hers, yet she had no inkling of burying it. She felt a vague sense of unease.

She hesitated, then popped the top. Inside, nestled in yellowed newspaper, was a collection of seemingly random objects: a dried flower, a tarnished silver locket, a small, intricately carved wooden bird. A cold dread seeped into her bones.

A wave of nausea hit her as she picked up the locket. It opened, revealing a tiny portrait of a man she didn't know. The bird felt like a stone in her hand, heavy and alien. It was all a complete mystery.