Flowers from 1970// reuploaded

chapter 3: time capsule

Dream and George found other ways to communicate, with George having the brilliant idea of Dream leaving a time capsule buried somewhere in the backyard for George to find.

George uploaded his work project onto his computer, and walked outside with a shovel he had recently purchased. Dream had told him it was put in the corner near the fence, and had hoped no one had taken it out since it was put in.

With that information, George started to dig. He wasn't the strongest physically, but he persisted with each stab of the shovel into the cold dirt.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw someone looking at him. It must have looked weird, to be digging a hole in your backyard. He must have looked like he was digging a grave to dump a body in. George shrugged at the man, which prompted him to walk away.

The man looked quickly into a pocket notebook while he was walking away, and wrote something down. George was scared it was notes about him being suspicious that he was going to report to the police.

It had been over 15 minutes, and George sighed. He took a look at the pile of dirt on the ground and shook his head. Someone must have found the capsule before him.

He was about to shovel the dirt he worked so hard on digging out back into the hole when a glimmer of light reached his eyes. There, buried into the ground was a hint of metal.

George's eyes widened as he ran for the shovel again, picking at the ground until he found a pill shaped metal container. It had masking tape on it with the word "George" written.

He did not even bother shoveling the dirt back in, he ran back home to rinse off the outside of the container and shuffled into his room.

Right on time, the phone started ringing. George picked up, "Dream! I've got your capsule." Dream chuckled, "So you do. Well open it, I'm curious how long the things in there survived."

It took George a while, as the rust created a sort of lock in between the seams, but eventually it popped open with such a force that George was thrown back a little with a groan.

"You alright?" Dream asked worriedly into the phone.

George got back up, "Yes. Just fine."

A couple of things inside the capsule scattered around the floor due to how it opened. George grabbed the first thing he saw.

He squinted at it, "Pow-Chew?" He tried to read on the wrapper.

"Yes!" Dream said excitedly, "I love those."

"What is this?" He held it up to his nose and sniffed it, it smelled like rotten candy. "It's gum. Check the expiration date." Dream ordered.

The wrapper had a barely visible blob of ink that represented the expiration date. "August 22, 1971." George read out loud. "I can't believe this never attracted ants."

George put the candy on his desk and reached for something else he found on the floor. It was a rock.

"Is this quartz?" George asked.

"Yeah. It's my favorite one I own." Dream admitted.

George held it tightly in his hand, "Why give it to me, then?"

---

Dream lay on his bed, letting his records play in the background and staring at the wallpaper. "Why give it to me, then?"

How was Dream to answer that? He gave it to George because he wanted his favorite person to have his favorite thing, but all of it was so wrong. He cared about someone who didn't even exist yet.

He cared about his best friend Sapnap too, but not in the way he did for George, someone he had never even met.

"Dream?" George mumbled into the phone.

"Oh- uh yeah, I guess I just don't think I'll need it in the future." He answered untruthfully. "Hm, alright." George sounded like he was scrambling to pick up more items.

In the capsule were other little things such as an old music cassette and baseball cards. After a while, George saw a little canister and held it up to his eyes. He then opened it, it was dry, cracking, and expired (formerly) lime paint that was now a dark foresty green.

"What did you open?" Dream asked quietly.

"Green paint." George dipped his finger in, and what he saw surprised him. His finger broke into the hard cracked layer and into a watery, preserved lime paint that he was sure was the original color.

"I'm sure it's ugly now, right?" Dream joked, but George looked at his finger covered in paint. "No. It's perfect."

George had an idea. He spilled a good portion of the can onto his hand and spread it around with a finger.

"Are you there? What are you doing?" Dream asked, but George walked over to his bedroom wall.

He glanced at Dream's handprint, and with one movement, placed his paint-covered hand right next to it. The difference in sizes of their hands was interesting, along with the detail that Dream's handprint was old and cracking, while George's was clean and fresh and still a bright color.

George grabbed the phone with his clean hand, "Yeah, I'm here."

"What did you do?"

George stared at the two handprints, "Nothing." He mumbled.

"Oh." Dream murmured, "Well there's one more thing in there. Taped to the inside of the capsule. You can look at it but I'll have to hang up."

"Why?" George asked.

"Bye, George. Have a good night." Dream bid and before George could ask for an explanation once again, their connection cut.

George put down the phone with a sigh and checked the inside of the capsule container. Inside was a piece of paper. A polaroid.

It was of Dream. Seemingly candid taken by another person. He was smiling, with beautiful dirty blonde hair and a tall stature. He was holding a pet cat and was in the very bedroom George was in at that moment.

George thought he was quite handsome. He was getting sleepy, and his eyes fell closed with the photo held close to him.