Gemotions

He bounced on the balls of his feet, the shovel forgotten at his side. The old oak tree, usually a source of shade and quiet, now seemed to hum with anticipation. The moment he'd unearthed the time capsule, the world had shifted. Inside, nestled amongst the usual trinkets of youth – a baseball card, a half-used tube of lip gloss – was a note. Written in his own childish scrawl.

"To my future self," it read, "I hope you are happy." A chuckle escaped him, a sound he hadn't made in years. The air crackled around him, vibrant and alive. He felt an urge to skip, to shout, to tell someone, *anyone*, about this extraordinary discovery. He’d made himself happy.