Gemotions

The man, now middle-aged, watched the contents of the capsule being displayed in the town square. He’d helped bury it as a child. A photograph of the group, smiling and carefree, was pinned to a bulletin board. He was the only one that didn't remember, that didn't recognize any of the faces.

He scanned the faces and tried to conjure a memory, a feeling, anything that connected him to this shared past. He felt a deep ache inside, a hollow space where a shared identity should have been.

He felt the cold sweat clinging to his forehead. He began to back away from the group of people, the sounds of their excited chatter growing fainter as he retreated. He was a stranger in his own past.