Gemotions

The first thing he saw was the glint of sunlight on the metal. David cursed under his breath, his shoulders stiffening as he approached. This was another one of *those* days. He was already running late.

He wrenched the lid open, the hinges screaming in protest. Inside, nestled amongst faded photographs and a dried-up pen, was a crumpled note. He unfolded it with trembling hands. “To my future self…” it read.

His breath hitched. He felt a sudden, inexplicable urge to crush the note in his fist. He wanted to rip it to shreds, throw everything back in the ground, and forget this whole ridiculous episode ever happened.