Gemotions

The rusted metal of the capsule lay exposed in the freshly tilled garden. Elias knelt, his fingers tracing the inscription: “To the Future.” He didn’t recognize the handwriting, the cramped, spidery script. A wave of a chill washed over him, even though the summer sun beat down. He should have remembered this. He felt a hollowness in his chest, a vacuum where a forgotten memory should have been.

He pried open the lid, the sound echoing in the sudden quiet. Inside, a collection of forgotten treasures. A photograph of a girl with fiery red hair. A worn copy of a book he'd never read. A small, tarnished silver locket. He swallowed hard.

He clutched the locket. It was cold against his palm. He needed to remember. He needed to *know*. He felt the tightness in his shoulders.