Gemotions

The archaeologist, Dr. Anya Sharma, felt a tremor of something akin to smugness as she brushed the dust from the time capsule. She had excavated dozens of these, but this one was different. It was on her own property, her own history, and a buried secret she'd forgotten. It was also an unwelcome intrusion of the past. Her past.

Inside, a collection of items, carefully chosen. A first edition of a book she’d written, a rejection letter from a prestigious publisher, a drawing done by her father. The drawing was one of those terrible, saccharine portraits that she had always found pretentious. The rejection letter...well, let's just say she wouldn't have kept it if she'd been in a better mood.

She held the drawing. It was all so sentimental. All so *them*. She turned the paper over. With a flick of her wrist, she ripped it in half. She felt a grim satisfaction at the action. The publisher's letter, too, was shredded.