Remembrance of Things Passed

A generational gasp… Image by Author, created in AI. Note: This is a snippet from a much-longer tale that may or may not be (I change my mind every day) the last entry in my short-story book-in-progress. Setting the Scene: Two employees at the Smithsonian, one older (Monty) and one younger (Garamonda), have managed to find a long-lost key that opens a door in the back of their office. Said portal had not been breached in many decades, due to the pesky missing bit of metal. As we drop into the goings-on, Garamonda has just turned the inserted key in the rusty door lock… There was an odd hissing noise, comparable to the sound heard by Howard Carter when he breached Tutankhamun’s Tomb in 1922. The door popped open just a smidge, accompanied by the release of a smell that was not right in any way. (A small potted fern, located on the nearby desk of a coworker who is unnamed because she didn’t really contribute anything to this story other than having a desk, chose that moment to expire,…