We found a time capsule dated 1975, but the items inside were from 2025…

Wallace and I shared a stupefied glance, then stared back at the grubby jam jar we had just stumbled upon whilst digging a trench in the beach’s sand.

“Look”, said Wallace, as he picked up the jar and pointed its reddy-brown the lid in my face. Upon the lid, barely legible from the layers of grub, was scratched 1975. “It says 1975! Can you believe that Tom! Oh, boy, we're gonna be famous!” The jar shook in his hands, as his eyes glistened like diamonds.

“Yeah, yeah” I rolled my eyes, pushing the gross jar out of my face, “For all we know somebody could’ve chucked that jar on the beach a few weeks ago, so instead of harassing me with the damn thing why don’t you open it so we can find out.”

Somehow Wallace's eyes seemed to glow at this point (probably from imagining his face on TV), and without hesitation he tugged at the jar’s lid. It didn’t budge. He tugged again, and again, until I thought his arm was gonna fall off. 

“Pass it here, you big sissy,” I reached out for the jar, which he, defeated, passed over, and after what I’d like to call more skilful and manly tugging, the jar’s stubborn lid finally gave way.

“YES”, Wallace cried, as he snatched the jar from my hands, despite my protests, and eagerly peered inside. I watched in anticipation, my stomach twisting with butterflies. Then his smile dropped.

“What?”

“What is it, Wallace? Is there anythi-”

“THEY HAD AIR PODS IN 1975?!”

“What? No of course they didn’t you stupi-”

“AND PORTABLE SPEAKERS?! THERE’S EVEN AN ABBLE WATCH!”

“Have you gone mad!” It was my turn to snatch the jar, but to my surprise, Wallace didn't even flinch. He just looked at me, as I peered into it. He was right. Our eyes met, stupefied once again. There really were Air Pods, a speaker and an Abble Watch. I flipped the jar over, tipping out the shockingly expensive contents.

“What are you doing?”, asked Wallace.

“Looking for a note”, and just like that an old tea-stained piece of parchment fell to the sand. Ditching the jar, I grabbed the note, reading it rapidly. My eyes went as wide as saucers.

“What does it say!”

I cleared my throat, resetting my eyes back to the top of the old note.

“It says:


“Dear reader,


My name is Jonathan P. Watson and I am 67 years old. I am a rather unknown inventor, drawn to the most complex of inventions. I must say, over my time I have come across many strange and wonderful inventions, but nothing compares to what my Aunt Lina found in her new house’s basement two weeks ago today. 


There were three peculiar devices. Firstly a small, oval, case that popped open with two bean-like structures that sat inside. I believe they were held in by some magnetic force. Genius. However, despite my efforts, I have not yet found the function of this pair of beans. Secondly a small cylinder with a metal, mesh top, and buttons on the side consisting of ‘+ -’ and three other symbols I have yet to identify. I have, therefore, drawn a diagram of these symbols.””


I showed Wallace the diagram, which consisted of a power button, a bluetooth button, and a pause-play button. We were both dumbfounded.

“Keep reading” he urged, pushing the parchment back at my face. So I did.


““ Lastly, a flat square attached to a rubber strap which I have concluded goes on one’s wrist. I have eagerly pressed each button on the side of the square, however I have found no result.

This leads me to a very sorry conclusion. I have no skill in any such inventions, therefore I am of no use. In conclusion, I shall encapsulate these curious inventions and plant them on my local beach for the future generations to find, who, I hope, have more knowledge in such technologies than I.


All I ask of you, dear reader, is when you find these ingenious creations, look for their functions, and if found, share it, and my name with the world.


I wish you well, dear reader, and the best of luck!


Kindest regards,


Jonathan P. Watson””


Without a second word, Wallace and I grabbed the jar and items, scrabbled out the ditch and ran for my house. Soon we were at the door, bursting in, and shouting the house down. My little sister, May, jumped like a cat, almost dropping her tablet, and my mother, who had just ran in like one of us was dying (which by our noise level, she probably thought we were) gave us a cold stare that scorched our insides. But we didn’t care… we had found something HUGE!

“MUM LOOK!!” I shoved the note at her

“We found this while digging on the beach!!” Wallace shook the jar at her face.

“What on earth has gotten into you two!”, mum shouted, but curiously grabbed the note anyway. We watched ecstatically as her eyes moved right to left down the page. For the third time that day, our eyes met, stupefied.


Next thing we knew she had called the BBC and star historians flooded the case. Tests were run, questions were asked, identities were found and soon enough they had the case on BBC news, with our names, and the name Jonathan P. Watson.


 But that was not the final surprise, for the crusty jar and note were, in fact, deemed around 50 years old, and although people refused to believe the contents of the jar were too, the note contained the only evidence we needed… a big diagram of the bluetooth sign proved it all!


Unfortunately, Jonathan P. Watson had passed away, however his name would go down in history along with one of the biggest historical mysteries, and me and my best friend Wallace were to blame for all of it.


I, Tom Jinho, couldn’t be happier.