Gemotions

The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the living room, but all Leo could see was the rectangular bulk of the delivered package. It was meant for "Seraphina Moreau," the woman who’d lived in his apartment before him. She'd been a bit of a recluse, Leo recalled. He hoped she wasn't still expecting mail.

He avoided looking at it, but the pressure in his chest grew with each passing minute. He was supposed to be working, but he couldn't concentrate. He was supposed to go for a run, but his legs felt like lead.

His fingers slowly reached for the box. He turned it over in his hands, examining it from every angle. His jaw was clenched so hard he felt his molars grinding against each other. He took a deep breath. Just get rid of it. That’s all.