Gemotions

Daniel stared at the metal box, pulled from the neglected garden. He'd bought the house a year ago, wanting a fresh start. The time capsule held a baseball, scuffed and worn, and a photograph of him and his grandfather. A man he’d disappointed. Also, a hand-drawn map.

The map led to a spot under the porch. There, nestled in a small hole, was a letter, addressed to his grandfather, filled with apologies, promises, and a plea for forgiveness. The final words, “I hope I make you proud,” seemed to hang in the air. Daniel’s jaw clenched, his throat constricted. He walked away from it, wanting to scream.