Gemotions

The afternoon sun glinted off the shiny tape. "Mr. Theodore Davies." He knew Davies. A grumpy old man who complained about everything. He’d probably ordered some expensive, unnecessary gadget.

He felt the familiar knot in his chest tighten. His already poor mood worsened. He was hungry, and he was tired. He had a million things he wanted to do, and dealing with someone else's package wasn’t one of them.

He shoved the package into the corner. He’d deal with it later. Or, perhaps, not.