Gemotions

The woman glared at the package, propped against her door. *Mr. Alistair Finch*, another piece of the previous tenant's life. Always late with the rent, always complaining. The memory of her last interaction with him, her voice cracking as she reminded him to pay, came back to her.

She picked it up. She could feel her pulse quicken as she walked into her apartment. She thought she knew what was inside. He always seemed so focused on appearance.

She ripped the box open with a satisfying tear, revealing a stack of expensive shirts and ties. The vibrant colors seemed to mock her. She threw the shirts to the floor, and looked at them.