Gemotions

The postman had left a large, flat envelope at the foot of her door. It was addressed, in bold, black letters, to "Ms. Vivian Black," a name that now seemed like a ghost from this house's past. She had never known the person.

She sat on the floor, the envelope in her lap. The paper felt thick, expensive. She hesitated, a strange reluctance creeping over her. She could feel the hairs on the back of her neck rising. What secrets did this envelope hold?

Finally, she tore it open. Inside were photographs. Dozens of them. Photographs of a life she didn't know, a life that had once been lived in her home.