Gemotions

Sweat beaded on her forehead, each drop a tiny explosion of heat against her skin. The soil clung to her fingers, thick and clinging like a desperate lover. She had envisioned a leisurely afternoon of weeding, not this infuriating excavation project. Her breath hitched in her chest, a short, sharp gasp of something akin to fury. She had no recollection of ever setting up a time capsule.

She kicked at the pile of earth, her boot sending a spray of dirt across the pristine lawn. It was a betrayal, a violation of her space, her life. She remembered nothing about this damn thing. Why? When? And who had the audacity to bury it on *her* property? The implications were staggering.

The capsule itself was a squat, rectangular box. She snatched it from its grave, her hands shaking slightly. She dropped it. The metallic sound echoed through the tranquil garden. She leaned over it, hands on her hips, a posture of belligerent defiance, her jaw clenched tight.