Gemotions

Rain lashed against the corrugated iron roof of the shed as Elias pried open the rusted time capsule. His fingers trembled slightly, not from the cold, but from a knot of something inside him that tightened with each turn of the wrench. He didn't recognize the handwriting on the faded label, barely legible after decades underground. Inside, nestled amongst brittle newspaper clippings and a tarnished silver locket, was a small, crudely drawn picture of a dog, a creature that looked vaguely like a mutt he used to see playing in the park near his childhood home. He found himself picking it up, tracing the simple lines with a fingertip, a sense of profound longing washing over him.