Gemotions

The desert wind whipped sand against Daniel's face as he crouched beside the time capsule. The discovery had been accidental, his shovel striking metal while he was searching for a lost irrigation pipe. The blistering sun beat down on his back, but a chill ran through him. He checked the inscription: “To open in 2043.” He’d buried the thing. But when? He'd buried it, yet he couldn't recall a single moment of it.

He pushed himself up and looked around. The vast expanse of the desert offered no comfort, just an unsettling emptiness. The silence was deafening, broken only by the keening wind. He ran a hand over his face, as if trying to wipe away the strange fog that had settled over his memory.

His breath came in shallow, rapid bursts. He wanted, desperately, to be somewhere else. He had to be somewhere else.