Gemotions

The rusty metal felt cold against her gloved hand. Maria’s breath hitched as she pried open the lid, her shoulders slumped. The discovery of the time capsule, buried under her old childhood swing set, felt like a cruel trick. She had to take a long, deep breath to steady herself.

Inside, she found a single, dried flower pressed between the pages of a small journal. Her handwriting was careful, almost elegant, the words detailing dreams she had long abandoned. She felt a wave of weariness wash over her. It had all vanished.

She closed the journal and ran a hand through her hair. The sun was hot on her face, and her chest felt heavy. A dull ache began to throb behind her eyes.