The Lost Dreams of a Broken Poet

The Time Capsule

Short story I did on a prompt I made: Write a short story where a person in the future finds a timecapsule made by you. 

Enjoy!

Once there was a planet, gasping for breath. Once there was a city, taken over by Nature. Once there was a house, broken down by vines and trees.

"Al, you're doing it again."

Once there was an idiot, interrupting my monologue.

"Hey! That's no way to talk to your partner!"

"Then let me finish! This is my thing, remember?" Lyn laughed and I joined.

"Fine, fine..."

In a place fraught with danger, captain Lyn and lieutenant Alan must search for any remains of Pre-Space culture. They approach the house, a beacon blinking on their computer. Carefully, they walk inside.

"Look! Are those actual printed portraits?"

"So it seems. It's so weird that they're not moving, don't you think?"

Alan holds an ancient frame with a paper photograph. Blowing away the dirt and dust, a couple smiling brightly before an ancient monument look back at the explorers. They pull the photo out and read the—it seems—handwritten note behind: Alba & Alex, Paris, autumn 2025. They gently put it back into a large chest floating behind them. Now, they proceed to explore the true treasure of the house... the basement!

"Dun, dun, duuun!" Lyn completed, making me laugh.

The brave couple slowly walks down, ready to be amazed. Below, only one box remains intact: a metal chest sealed and ready to reveal its secrets...

"Are you ready? Lyn asked me. I gulped and nodded. This was the moment of truth. When we'd see if our mission was actually worth continuing.

I opened the chest, eyes closed.

"Wow..." Lyn breathed.

I opened my eyes and peeked inside.

Notebooks. Dozens of books and notebooks and photo albums, frozen in time. Right on top were three plushies, which we gently put aside.

It appears the mission will be a success. The old message found said the truth! The explorers will now proceed to analyze the contents of these books. More info will be added upon return.

"Let's see... Old classics with notes and marks from their owner, drawings... Oh, a diary!"

"University notes!"

"Family photos!"

"A rainbow flag? I have never seen a rainbow before..."

"Letters. None have been sent. They don't even have a stamp."

I read the first one.

"Poems," I corrected.

"There's more behind the photos. And stories."

"This... this really is a treasure..." I whispered, holding the puppy plushie, a bell inside it chiming gleefully.