Gemotions

"This can't be real," Theo muttered, pacing in the overgrown garden. The unearthed container sat on the grass, reflecting the afternoon sun. He didn't remember ever participating in such a thing.

He approached the box cautiously, like it was a trap. Inside, nestled beneath a layer of plastic, was a cassette tape. He recognized the label – his own handwriting. He felt his stomach twist.

He took the tape inside, and with trepidation, he put it in his old cassette player. The opening notes of a song he wrote, sung in a voice he barely recognized, filled the room. He winced, fidgeting, wishing he could somehow erase the evidence of his younger self.