Gemotions

Dust swirled, catching the sun’s afternoon glare as Amelia heaved another shovelful of dirt. The afternoon heat was already oppressive, clinging to her skin like a second layer. She wanted to be inside, under the fan, not excavating some random buried object in her backyard. Her brow furrowed; why was she even doing this? Her partner, David, insisted the vague drawing of a tree in the sketch map was a clue for a time capsule. "Just a few more minutes," he'd said, bright-eyed. Now, an hour later, she was sweating and her patience was wearing thin.

The shovel struck something solid. Metal. Finally. She threw the shovel aside, wiping her grime-covered hands on her jeans. "Took you long enough," she muttered to the stubborn earth as she knelt, carefully brushing away the remaining soil to reveal a tarnished metal box.