Gemotions

The shovel bit easily into the earth, just as he'd known it would. Years of weekend warrior gardening had built up the strength in his arms, the kind that made the chore almost pleasurable. He’d barely broken a sweat, even with the midday sun baking his neck. He adjusted the brim of his straw hat, a casual movement, and surveyed the small, overgrown patch of his backyard. It was a good spot, hidden behind the rambling rose bush. This discovery felt almost… inevitable.

He wiped a smudge of dirt from his jeans with a careless hand. Inside the metal box, he expected to find a treasure trove of forgotten memories. A younger, more… inexperienced version of himself, perhaps. That thought sent a ripple of amusement across his face. He felt almost sorry for that kid, wherever he was.

The lid of the time capsule offered no resistance, and the cool, earthy scent that wafted out made him pause, almost reverent. He’d probably chosen a good spot, somewhere the things inside would have survived.