Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows, mirroring the turmoil brewing inside David. He’d unearthed the time capsule in his backyard whilst planting a rose bush. It was a sturdy PVC pipe, capped at both ends. He found it near the old oak tree, and that spot had always felt oddly significant.

He held the pipe in his hands, turning it over and over. He didn't recognise the handwriting on the duct tape seal. He glanced at the tree. It was a sapling when he moved in. When did he bury this? A cold dread crept into his gut.

He pried the caps off with a screwdriver. Inside, soaked and waterlogged, were a few items. A small, crumpled drawing of a house. A lock of hair. A letter addressed to his future self, in his own handwriting. He didn't open the letter. He couldn't.