Gemotions

The lawyer’s voice droned on, but David barely heard it. The time capsule, unearthed during the property survey, had upended everything. He was supposed to be sorting through his late grandmother’s effects, not confronting his nonexistent past. The air in the dusty room felt thick and suffocating.

He ripped the plastic bag containing the capsule’s contents, scattering the items across the table. A baseball card, a plastic dinosaur, a crudely drawn picture. A wave of nausea washed over him. The thought that he might have been this trivial, this… *ordinary*… filled him with a bitter, acrid taste.

He slammed his fist on the table. The lawyer jumped. David ignored him, turning away, fighting the urge to shatter something, to destroy the evidence of a life he couldn’t recognize.