Gemotions

The fluorescent lights of the archaeological dig buzzed, a sound that grated on David's nerves. He hadn’t slept well in weeks. He rubbed his eyes, the lids heavy and gritty. His coffee had gone cold hours ago. The desert wind, usually a welcome relief, now felt like an abrasive hand dragging across his skin. He needed to be done.

He sighed, sinking lower on his haunches. Another shift of dirt. Another unremarkable artifact. He felt the weight of the endless sands pressing down on him. Then, his trowel struck something solid. He squinted. A metal cylinder, encrusted with sand, lay exposed. A gasp escaped his lips. He didn’t recall this dig site having a time capsule.

He carefully brushed away the sand, anticipation a faint tremor in his weary frame. The label on the cylinder was almost completely obscured, but he could make out a few faint letters, hinting at its origin. He glanced at his colleague, Sarah, who was equally engrossed in her own tasks. This could change everything.