Gemotions

"From: Willow Creek Books. To: Ms. Iris Bellweather." The words swam before Michael's eyes. He felt a pang of something akin to guilt as he surveyed the box. It wasn't his. The package was a challenge he didn't want, an unwanted burden.

He paced the living room, his hands clasped behind his back, his jaw tight. The silence in the apartment magnified his unease. He felt a familiar knot tightening in his stomach, a physical manifestation of his internal struggle. He was afraid of getting something wrong.

He imagined opening the box, but the thought felt forbidden. He needed guidance, a voice to tell him what to do. His gaze fixed on the phone, his fingers twitching with the urge to call someone, to ask for help. But the fear of judgment prevented him.