Gemotions

The cold seeped into Amelia’s bones as she stared at the bright orange plastic container, poking out of the newly tilled soil. A cold sweat erupted on her palms, making the gardening gloves stick uncomfortably. She gripped the trowel so tightly her knuckles were white. The world around her seemed to shrink, the chirping birdsong fading into a dull hum.

The capsule was undeniably hers. The faded sticker on the side, a cartoon of a smiling sun, felt sickeningly familiar. But when had she ever done this? The last few weeks were a blank. Fragments of dreams danced at the edge of her thoughts, whispers she couldn't grasp.

She backed away slowly, her eyes darting around, searching for an explanation that wasn't there. She turned and ran, leaving the trowel and the capsule, and everything else, behind.