Gemotions

He remembered the day he buried the capsule like it was yesterday: the sun, the laughter, the feeling of hope. Now, decades later, the metal box in his hands felt like a lead weight. The contents were a stark reminder of dreams unrealized.

He touched the smooth, worn surface of a baseball mitt, and a familiar, bittersweet pang struck him. He used to be a pitcher. Now he was a lawyer. He felt like a prisoner in his own body, his spirit withered. He stared out the window, watching the world rush by, and feeling like he was standing still.