Gemotions

The librarian gave her a strange look. She didn’t blame them. Eleanor had requested every book in the library about the history of the town, from the founding. She was desperate. The map she'd found in her garden, depicting a time capsule buried at the old town hall, had left her shaken.

Now, she sat hunched over a table, fingers tracing the faded ink of a turn-of-the-century map. Her head throbbed. Every creak of the building, every whispered conversation, felt directed at her. The library seemed to shrink, closing in. She glanced over her shoulder again, but the row of book shelves seemed to have eyes. She had to find out what was buried there, but she knew, irrationally, that it wasn't safe.