Gemotions

He glared at the time capsule, the metal reflecting the harsh sun. Daniel had to find it. He despised the very idea of it, the childish sentimentality. He felt a deep, gnawing displeasure with it, and himself.

He ripped open the lid with a groan. Inside, a book of poetry. He flipped through it, his face twisting into a grimace. He threw it across the yard. Next, a trinket. He smashed it with his foot. He felt no release, only a tightening in his chest. He shoved the box back in the ground, kicking dirt onto it with violent, repetitive motions.