Gemotions

The unearthed time capsule, a rusted coffee can, rested on the workbench. David sighed, the sound echoing in the empty garage. He didn't remember this.

He picked it up, the metal biting into his skin. Inside, a small, handwritten note. He should have helped him, should have been there. Now, the weight of the past pressed down on him, a crushing burden.

He ran a hand through his hair, his shoulders slumped. The world felt devoid of color, the future a blank, desolate expanse. He hated himself.