Gemotions

The package, addressed to a Mr. Alistair Finch, sat in the hallway, blocking the doorway. It was bulky, wrapped in heavy brown paper. Liam kicked it, a halfhearted attempt to dislodge it. He regretted that instant and the sound it made.

He felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle. He wished he had a weapon. A knife, a bat. Something. His gaze kept flicking to the windows. The package contained something, something important.

He went to the window to make sure the door was still locked, and saw the headlights from a car on the street outside. He ducked and tried to calm down. It was probably nothing. But he would open the package.