“We found a time capsule dated 1975, but the items inside were from 2025” the Mayor of Vaywood was visibly shaken, fidgeting with her hands while maintaining eye contact with the crowd. “We are not sure how this happened but it seems nobody tampered with it”.

Somebody gasped, a murmur grew. Alec Montgomery was taking notes on his phone with impressive speed, somebody next to him was recording the entire scene.


Almost the entire town, a variegated collective of 246 people, was present at the assembly in the town square. When the mayor requested a forum with all the citizens, the local newspaper frantically woke up from a long-lasting slumber. Alec jumped off his chair and volunteered for the piece coverage: It seemed big, important, and so out of character for the small country town. The Gods knew how much they needed a first pager.


“Mayor Sullington, how can you guarantee the age of the capsule? Sounds like an ingenious prank” the young journalist said, raising his hand confidently.


“Well, the capsule was found in a niche in the elementary school courtyard, covered with smooth concrete. It has a display with a counter which had reached 50 years. We uncovered it while building the new water implant for the school gym, there is no way somebody would be able to drill a hole in the cement and seamlessly refill it, without being noticed nor leaving traces. Nevertheless, the capsule was bolted shut”.


“Sounds like the school would be the culprit then!” replied the journalist with a smug tone and a big smile. The man next to him rolled his eyes.


“The Headmaster has no records of a time capsule ever having been created or deposited in the school grounds” the mayor spoke calmly but louder, shaking her head. Her hair did not betray her; it was impeccably styled and very voluminous.


“We want to see it!” Mrs. Prune, the local grocery shop owner shouted from the end of the crown. “Let’s cut the crap and get this over with”


“Yes, bring the items!” somebody added. The crowd started buzzing.


Sheila Buckle was standing behind Mayor Sullington with a frown. When the capsule was uncovered, she was the first from the City Hall arriving to the scene. The construction workers were all sitting down in the shade eating their lunch and a cluster of loud students were surrounding the item. She sequestered the object and ran to the Mayor, already planning a major town festival in her mind. It would bring visitors, tourism and lots of money. But the mayor was adamant the content was to be examined before; the administration would not have survived another scandal. And that was when all this mess started.


Sheila was a solid woman with a robust appearance yet she lifted a large box with impressive agility, and placed it in front of the lectern. She then uncovered the box and extracted a large metallic cylinder from it. It looked like a big cooking pot but had a pointed lid and numerous bolt holes on the rim. A small green digital display indicated the numbers “+50”. The woman, dressed in a purple tailleur seemed not interested in keeping her clothes clean. She lifted the dusty capsule, held it against her chest and rotated it, showing it to the crowd. Almost everybody extracted their phone and started taking picture with excitement.


“Yes, we will show you the items but please do not post these on social media until we clarify the provenience of these objects. I also invite you all to come forward with any information you might have”. The policemen at her back nodded in agreement.

Mayor Sullington stepped down from the pulpit, reached the capsule and struggled opening the lid while Sheila still held it. They twisted the object, rotated it, titillated the lid in a clumsy dance until the top finally budged. Alec held his breath while the short woman rummaged in the pot and extracted a bunch of envelopes, each with a different number on it.

She then proceeded to open the first one and extracted a keyring with the symbol of the peace and a leaflet. The brochure was printed with few faded colors and depicted kids from different nationality with traditional clothes, holding hands. A handwritten note was added at the bottom. The text said:

 

“STAND UP FOR A FAIRER SOCIETY: A CALL TO ACTION. END RACISM NOW!

Racial discrimination is a daily reality for millions in our communities, in schools, workplaces, and on our streets. True equality means more than laws—it means justice, respect, and opportunity for all.

We must challenge prejudice wherever we see it and support policies that create real change.

Together we can make a difference right now.

We hope the future will bring a more equal society.”


An eerie silence sheet dropped on the crowd.


“As you can see” the mayor exclaimed “This message could have been written today. We all see and face this very topic constantly. I, myself” said pointing her finger on her round face “have experienced racism only last month! When the opposition assumed my ethnic background is incompatible with my role, after expressing my views about criminals’ deportation being unconstitutional”.


Somebody loudly smacked their lips.


A young girl with braids lifted her hand “But Mayor that letter could have also been written in the 1975”. Other towners nodded, some loudly agreed.


“It could have, yes my darling. But it could have also been written after that! I have reasons of believing these are modern items and I will show you exactly why: hear this:” the town chief opened the envelope number two, and extracted a wooden rosette badge with a velvet ribbon and another pamphlet. The badge was hand-painted with the female symbol and a raised clenched fist on the background. The pamphlet was pink, with a drawing of a few ladies marching together holding hands. Based on the style and on the women’s clothes it looked unequivocally vintage and it said:


"EQUALITY FOR WOMEN

Women still earn less than men for the same work, face barriers to advancement, and have their rights to control their own bodies questioned.

We demand equal pay, equal rights, and full participation in all aspects of life.

We hope the future will bring a more equal society.”

 

Once more the town fell quiet.


“Oh come on! This is definitely a modern word leaflet disguised as a vintage one. There is no way women were expected to be paid the same as men 50 years ago” said a young woman in third row, trying to prevent her young son from escaping away. “Most of them wouldn’t even work back then!”


“Back then? Ma’am we’re talking about 1975, not 1915. Women were voting, working and expecting equality” replied sharply somebody from the back. Sheila Buckle shook her head disapproving.


“Somebody still does and would like returning doing so” countered Mrs Prune. A group of small girls next to her exploded in loud giggles.


Alec Montgomery stopped typing obsessively on his phone and lifted his gaze toward the Mayor. “Mrs Sullivan, I still don’t see why would you doubt the authenticity of the capsule. These documents seem ambiguous but nothing seems that modern”.


“It’s Mayor Sullivan, and wait to hear the next one”.


Alec blushed but maintained his stance observing the third folder being opened and a paper origami shaped as a poppy flower coming out of it. Another leaflet said:

 

"CHALLENGE WAR PROPAGANDA

As conflicts abroad take their toll, too often we are told what to think by governments and media. Let us question the narratives that justify violence and call for peace, transparency, and honest reporting. Support veterans, assist refugees, and refuse to let war define our future.

People fleeing war and hardship deserve compassion and support, not suspicion or hostility.

Our societies are stronger and richer when we welcome newcomers and respect their rights.

We hope the future will bring a more equal society."

 

The mayor took a long pause then asked “Does this ring a bell? The media distorting information? Hostility towards the refuges? Anybody think this would be more suited to 1975 than to 2025?”


“Well…they had the Vietnam war back then” said Alec inflating his chest proudly.


“I believe it just ended in 1975” the young girl with braids added.


“I doubt the government would manipulate the media to misinform the masses back then. People were honest and hardworking. And were proud of being part of their nation, regardless of their job or status” a robust man with a thick white bear stepped forward in the crowd toward the journalist.


“What’s your point, Mister Brooke? Do I look like a government puppet to you?” The journalist gripped his phone tightly but kept his tone flat.


“You absolutely do, and a bit of a peacock too!”


But the Mayor wasn’t even listening, while fiddling to open with the next envelope, letting all the other fall on the ground. She cut the debate short reading:

 

"DEFEND HUMAN RIGHTS EVERYWHERE

From dictatorships to discrimination at home, basic human rights are threatened every day. We cannot turn a blind eye to abuses, whether they occur abroad or in our own backyard. Stand up for freedom of speech, fair trials, and the protection of all minorities.

No one should face discrimination for who they love or who they are. We call for acceptance, equal rights, and protection for all people—regardless of sexual orientation or gender identity.

We hope the future will bring a more equal society."


“I guess we all agree this doesn’t feel so old, does it?” she concluded, extracting a very dry olive branch from the envelope and showed it around. “Aren’t all the workplaces Diversity Initiatives being shut down these days? Aren’t non-binary people targeted constantly with abusive and violent acts of retaliation?”


“Not old at all” added Sheila.


“Fuck no” ended Mrs Prune.


Sheila collected the envelopes from the floor and returned the fifth one to the mayor. The woman cleared her voice and preached the content of the next leaflet:

 

"ACT ON THE ECONOMIC CRISIS

Unemployment and rising prices hurt ordinary people. We must hold those in power accountable and demand fair wages, support for the unemployed, and measures to ensure everyone has the basics: food, housing, and dignity.

We need to favor exchanges between countries, reduce taxation and expand the markets with our neighbors. Cooperation is what will make us stronger, richer and smarter.

We hope the future will bring a more equal society."

 

Once more, the crowd was speechless.


“Is this referring to the imported goods tariffs?” a young man whispered to his friend.


“Do you see what I mean? As the town chief and the person in charge, I do not believe this capsule comes from the past. I cannot bring myself to accept that this is a 50 years old collection of messages. I think our town, as well as our society would look like fools if we brought this up with the rest of world”


“But we have a duty to share and inform…” started Alec.


“Oh cut it boy, nobody cares! They’re all dancing on tiktok until the next ban” Mrs Prune raised her arms as cursing them all and started walking back to her shop. Then she stopped, turned and added “I say put it back in the ground for the next hundred years and for God’s sake, add something about voting appropriately!”.


A few protests started at the same time but the old woman ignored them and slowly walked away.


“She is right this is ridiculous, let’s burn it!”


“Call the President, call the national TV” said somebody.


“ABSOLUTELY NOT! If somebody should write about it, it will be me!” Alec lost his temper and dropped his precious phone, his face all red and clammy.


The chaos erupted in the square, the policemen approached a couple in the front that started pushing each other, a young boy next to them screamed and ran away. Sheila gathered all the folders and locked them back in the capsule, ready to protect it with her life.


The Mayor asked the people to settle but the townspeople’s voices were louder than her microphone.

“ORDER! ENOUGH! ORDER!” she screamed until even her hair gave up and a flock of hair detached from the heavily sprayed hairdo. The man on the back kept filming everything with increased excitement but the town retuned calm with no fatalities.


“I will democratically deal with the question asking you to vote. We will make a decision right now but I only see two possible options here: we share the capsule with the rest of the word risking being ridiculed, or we bury it again and pretend this never happened”.


“Perhaps we should really add something more inside Mrs. Mayor” replied timidly the girl with braids.


“Let’s advise the future citizen to preserve the education and to fight the functional illiteracy” said the woman at the front still trying to contain her desperate child.


“We should tell them it's a woman right to terminate her pregnancy if she wants to” added somebody.


“And let’s give everybody the freedom to defend themselves and keep weapon with them” screamed a man in the back.


“What about the freedom of speech on the Internet?”


“And what about abolishing capitalism and spreading resources equally?”


“We should tell them to fight the patriarchy!”


“Let’s send the capsule to space for the Reptilians to find”.


“No more office work and more working from home in the future”.


“We should include some low-cal recipes and few memes!”


The Mayor observed the chaos unfolding and sighed.

She turned to her assistant and they shared one disheartened, long look.


“Put it back where you found it, Sheila, and write on it to try again in 50 years. I guess we really, really need more time.”