Gemotions

The lawyer had just finished reading the will, and now Michael felt… drained. The entire inheritance seemed to be a series of puzzles. The old family home. The antique car. And now, this. An old metal box, found buried in the backyard, according to the documents. He felt a profound heaviness, his shoulders slumping. It was hard to focus on the lawyer's words.

He didn’t remember burying a time capsule. He didn't remember anything about this box. The lawyer waited patiently as Michael, feeling the corners of his eyelids begin to droop, reached for the latch. The metal clicked. Inside was a collection of photographs, a faded map, and a single, dried rose. He wanted to sit down, maybe for days.