Gemotions

“Another one?” he thought, as he saw the cardboard box leaning against the brick wall. He’d lost count of how many packages had arrived for the old lady. The previous owner. She’d been gone for months, and still the mail kept coming.

He approached it slowly, the sun beating down on him. A bead of sweat trickled down his temple. He squinted at the address label: "Mrs. Eleanor Finch." He considered what should be done with the box.

He dragged it over to the trashcans, and hurled it with a grunt. He decided he was not going to be anyone’s secretary.