Gemotions

"Just another Tuesday," she muttered, shoving open the door to her cramped apartment. The scent of stale coffee hung heavy in the air. A forgotten box, half-buried under a pile of discarded magazines in the storage closet. A time capsule. She blinked, her vision momentarily blurring.

A cassette tape. She fumbled for a player, a tremor in her hands. The recording began, a voice she only vaguely recognized, filled with the boundless optimism of youth. It spoke of conquering the world. She paused the tape, a knot forming in her stomach. The world, it seemed, had conquered her.