Gemotions

He stared at the package, a pulse throbbing in his temple. Another one. "To the Resident." Never the right resident. This was the fifth one this month. He’d called the post office, left a message. Nothing. He balled his fists, knuckles whitening.

He grabbed his keys and practically threw himself out the door, the package forgotten on the doorstep. The air felt thick, heavy, as he walked to his car. He slammed the driver’s side door, the metal reverberating.

He cranked the engine and gunned it down the street, tires squealing as he peeled out of the driveway. He needed to *move.* Anything, to escape the suffocating feeling that had settled over him.