Gemotions

The delivery person had left a box. For the last resident of the house, "Mr. Theodore Bloom." But the box, addressed in a neat script, felt like a gift for him. He was alone, and a strange energy stirred within him as he brought it inside.

A music box. He opened it, and a haunting melody began to play. The tune was slow, building to a crescendo. The movement of the tiny figures was hypnotic. His chest grew heavy. As the music swelled, his breathing became shallow.

He closed the lid, and the music stopped, but the reverberations remained. He felt an unfamiliar pressure low in his abdomen. He wanted to hear the song again. He wanted to feel. His hands, though hesitant at first, found their way to his pants.