Gemotions

The time capsule, a small wooden box, sat on the kitchen counter. Clara traced the carved initials on its lid, a name that felt familiar but distant. She opened it, a cloud of dust puffing into her face.

Inside, a collection of trinkets: a lucky penny, a feather, a drawing. She didn’t know this person. This vibrant, hopeful girl. It was a person she had abandoned.

She turned away, staring out the window at the rain. Everything felt wrong, off-kilter. The world was a blur, the future a vast and unforgiving space.