Gemotions

He paced, his boots grinding into the worn wooden floorboards of the attic. The dust motes danced in the lone beam of sunlight, mocking his agitation. The discovery had been a sucker punch to the gut. A buried memory, a life he didn’t recognize, and now this…this blatant disregard for the present. The capsule was a slap in the face.

He picked it up, hefting the weight of the past in his hands. He felt a fire in his belly, a burning resentment that threatened to consume him. He wanted to chuck it through the window, to obliterate the source of his current misery. He forced himself to take a deep breath, the air thick with the smell of old wood and forgotten things.

He ripped the lid off. The contents, carefully arranged, were both familiar and alien, a jumbled mess of artifacts from a stranger's life. He felt an intense need to smash everything.