Gemotions

Sunlight streamed through the living room window, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air. Michael hummed, a cheerful tune escaping his lips as he sorted through the mail. A large, awkwardly shaped box sat next to the pile, addressed to the apartment's former occupant, Mrs. Gable. "Well, isn't this fortunate?" he murmured, rubbing his hands together.

He glanced at the box, assessing its size. He imagined it contained the most ludicrous item. What a stroke of luck, he thought, a secret smile playing on his lips. His heart gave a little skip.

The top was secured with an excessive amount of tape. Michael’s fingers danced around the edges, eager to see the contents. He leaned in, peering inside with avid anticipation. It was a vintage record player. The model he’d wanted forever! He let out a silent whoop, his stomach bubbling with excitement.