Gemotions

The rusty lock on the time capsule creaked open, and Jacob recoiled involuntarily. He'd been digging in his garden, preparing to plant tomatoes, when his shovel struck something hard. This box. He had no memory of ever creating such a thing.

A wave of nausea washed over him, and he instinctively took a step back. The garden, usually a source of peace, now seemed menacing. Each rustle of leaves, each chirp of a bird, sent a jolt of alarm through him. He felt as if unseen eyes were watching. The smell of the damp earth became cloying, suffocating. He just wanted to go inside.