Gemotions

The box was wrapped in layers of brown paper, tied with twine that was too thick and coarse. Mr. Jones, normally a patient man, felt a prickle of annoyance as he examined it. The return address read, "From a Fan." He knew it was from Gary, the student whose disruptive behavior had tested his patience at every turn.

Inside, nestled in straw, was a taxidermied squirrel posed mid-leap. The note: "You always helped me jump through hoops!" He let out a harsh, involuntary laugh.

He couldn't breathe. He picked it up and held it aloft. The air felt thick. He had to get rid of it. He went outside, placing it on the curb.