Gemotions

The air was still, heavy with the scent of jasmine and impending doom. He examined the time capsule. It looked shiny, new. He felt the blood begin to rush to his head. He'd lived in this house for twenty years. This was an insult.

He wanted to scream, to lash out, to rend the thing apart with his bare hands. He clenched his fists, knuckles white. His breaths came in short, shallow bursts. He imagined all the things he wanted to do with it.

He picked up the capsule, feeling the rough texture against his skin. He threw it to the ground. He bent down and examined the lock. He needed a crowbar, he decided.