Gemotions

"This is ridiculous!" Sarah yelled, the words bouncing off the walls of the dusty shed. She slammed the time capsule—a simple shoebox—onto a workbench, splinters of wood flying. It was a complete mystery. She'd been clearing out the shed, a task she’d been putting off for months, and there it was: her name in clumsy crayon on the lid.

She ripped the box open. Inside were a series of childish drawings, a collection of dried flowers, and a tarnished silver locket. A surge of irritation coursed through her. The locket, she realized, she vaguely remembered it. Given to her by someone she had since lost contact with. The memories were a tangle, a jumble.

She tossed the contents back into the box with a violent sweep of her hand. The silence of the shed pressed down on her. The air was thick with the scent of forgotten things, and the rising feeling of… being cheated.