Gemotions

The old lighthouse keeper, Thomas, found the time capsule in the sand by the sea. It was a small, copper box, weathered by the relentless wind and salt spray. He rubbed his beard, his brow furrowing as he inspected it. He didn't remember burying it. It seemed out of place.

He brought the box inside, placing it on the sturdy wooden table in the kitchen. He carefully pried open the lid, revealing a bundle of faded letters. Letters, written in his own, shaky handwriting. Addressed to his future self.

He picked up the first letter, unfolding the delicate paper. He felt a growing sense of detachment, a sense of having stepped outside of time. The words, filled with anxieties and dreams he no longer recognized, seemed to belong to a stranger. He took a seat and began to read.