Gemotions

The package was enormous, almost blocking the doorway. “Ms. Isolde Blackwood.” He knew Blackwood. The woman had been obsessed with crystals. He could already guess what the contents were.

He dropped his keys on the counter with a loud thud. He rubbed his temples. He’d spent the whole day dealing with difficult clients. He was looking forward to a quiet evening. This felt like a cruel joke.

He sighed and bent down, preparing himself for the inevitable unpacking and returning of someone else’s items.