Gemotions

He found it while clearing out his late grandmother's garden shed. The time capsule, small and unassuming, was tucked beneath a pile of dusty gardening tools. John’s fingers, stained with dirt, brushed against the metal. A strange, clammy feeling washed over him, like a premonition of something unpleasant. His breath hitched.

He couldn't place the handwriting on the label. He’d never seen it before. Inside, he found a collection of children’s drawings, a worn copy of a book he'd never read, and a lock of hair, tied with a faded ribbon. The hair, a light shade of brown, was not his. He backed away slowly.

He paced his kitchen. Every object seemed to be mocking him. The familiar scent of coffee brewing no longer comforted him. He needed to get away, to escape this… this thing. Grabbing his keys, he ran out the door, the time capsule forgotten on the counter.