Gemotions

The unearthed box felt like a personal attack. "This is not happening," Amelia seethed, the words escaping her lips as a hoarse whisper. She was a woman of consequence, of accomplishments, and now this… this childish time capsule, was a stain on her perfect trajectory.

She picked up a heavy rock and slammed it against the capsule, denting the lid. The action was oddly satisfying. The contents spilled out. A small, worn teddy bear, and a small journal.

She snatched the journal, the paper crackling in her grasp. The handwriting was hers, the words a puzzle. Each sentence was a violation, an unwanted invasion of her peace.