Gemotions

Rain slicked the ground, making the digging arduous. Elias paused, resting on his shovel, watching the droplets streak down his gloves. He wasn't in any rush. The time capsule, unearthed during a routine landscaping project, was a complete enigma. He had no recollection of burying it. He felt no urge to rush.

He'd spent the afternoon cataloging the objects. A box of crayons, a tattered copy of *Treasure Island*, a single, dried rose. Each item was a tiny echo of a past he couldn't grasp. When he did open the letter, he read it aloud, his voice steady. The words, written in a childish scrawl, spoke of dreams and hopes. He folded the paper carefully, returning it to the box. Tomorrow he would continue researching, perhaps discovering the mystery of his lost past.