Gemotions

The wind whipped around Owen as he stood on the cliff overlooking the ocean. He’d stumbled upon the time capsule while walking the bluffs, kicking at the loose soil. He felt a profound sense of distance from it, as if observing a stranger’s life. The contents were surprisingly banal: a cheap plastic compass, a crumpled map, and a seashell. He opened the compass, letting it fall open in his hand. The needle spun uselessly, never settling on a destination. He felt a deep, pervasive sense of being adrift.