Gemotions

The shovel clattered against the metal box, the sound echoing in the empty, overgrown lot. Sarah clawed at the dirt-caked lid, her breath coming in ragged gasps, her hands trembling. She hadn't been here in years, not since… well, not since it all went wrong. The capsule’s discovery felt like a cruel joke, a taunt from the universe.

A small, tarnished lock yielded to her furious tugging. Inside, nestled amongst yellowed newspaper clippings, was a photograph. Her younger self, beaming, surrounded by friends she hadn't spoken to in a decade. A wave of nausea surged.

"Oh God," she choked out, her voice a reedy whisper. The photograph slipped from her numb fingers, landing face down in the muddy pit. It felt like a lifetime had passed. She had to get away.