Gemotions

The air in the garage was thick with the scent of old wood and forgotten things. Robert, disoriented and numb, stared at the capsule, a metal box unearthed while he was cleaning it out. He had no recollection of its existence. "2002," the date read.

He opened it, revealing a collection of letters, tied with a ribbon. Love letters. The words swam before his eyes. He recognized the handwriting. The letters were from her, her voice now a distant memory. He read them, the words like a physical blow. He felt the cold spreading throughout his body.

He closed the capsule and walked away, not even bothering to rebury it.