Gemotions

He stared at the time capsule, unearthed during a routine landscaping project. It sat on the muddy ground, a stark contrast to the perfect symmetry of the new lawn he had approved. He felt a familiar knot tighten in his stomach. Everything he touched, he eventually corrupted.

Inside, among the expected trinkets, was a handwritten letter, addressed to him, from himself. The looping script was familiar, yet alien. He dreaded reading it. The words, when he finally deciphered them, were full of ambitious dreams, of a life yet unlived.

His chest ached. He thought of all the promises he hadn’t kept, the roads he hadn’t taken. He was an expert in disappointing himself. The letter felt like a judgement, a brutal reminder of the man he’d wanted to be and the man he'd become.