‘Your great grandparents buried this.’ Dirt slides from the glass time capsule as I twist the lid.
My son pulls out a tired newspaper clipping from 1910, then a monochrome photo of a boy. It’s uncanny. He’s identical to my own, even down to the triangular birthmark on his hand.
Afterword
The mission: to write a short flash fiction piece with “family” as the theme.
This is my third piece on this theme this month, following New Heights and Tears.
I was keen to give it a different focus. Thus, this curiosity, no mere coincidence.