He trudged up the hummock in painful slowness, leaning on his shovel with each step. His body was old and weak. He reached the spot and began to dig.
He remembered the day he buried the capsule here. He had been young and truculent and looking for adventure. He found her instead. She tempered him. She had made the decision easy, giving up his old self and taking on human form forever. He had planned to die here with her.
He would have. Truly. But they took her from him too early. He couldn’t protect her. He’d tried.
As she lay dying, in his moment of weakness, he told her his plan. She disagreed, spoke of forgiveness.
He sat, panting and holding his box etched with esoteric writing. It was heavier than he remembered – the weight of the universe, the key to the rest of himself.
Could he do it?