Gemotions

The rusted metal box lay half-buried in the overgrown plot behind the old Victorian house. Liam knelt, his knuckles white against the damp earth, pulling it free. He didn't remember the time capsule. He didn't remember *anything* about the childish, idealistic Liam who'd buried it. He pried the lid open, a cruel smile twisting his lips as he saw the contents. A crayon drawing of a smiling family. A mix tape titled "Happy Days." He crushed the tape under his heel, the plastic snapping satisfyingly.

He'd spent the last decade building a life away from those people. He’d meticulously constructed every wall, every barrier. Now, this relic, this testament to a life he'd discarded, had surfaced. He tossed the drawing into the dry weeds and stomped on it until it shredded. It was a good start.