Gemotions

The package was small, easily overlooked amidst the clutter of the entryway. Addressed to “Ms. Agnes Periwinkle.” Agnes Periwinkle. The name itself felt vaguely irritating, like a faded floral print. She almost didn’t see it, concealed as it was behind her own shoes.

She picked it up with two fingers, as if handling something unsavory. It was surprisingly heavy. Likely some knick-knack Agnes had splurged on.

She dropped it into the recycle bin. It was a shame, truly. Another piece of landfill, just because someone couldn't get their forwarding address right.