Gemotions

The morning light felt like a physical burden, pressing down on Amelia. Her bones ached. Everything demanded too much effort. She considered calling in sick, but knew she’d just end up staring at the ceiling.

A package. “Ms. Clara Bellweather.” The ex-tenant. Amelia was beginning to wonder if Clara was still living in spirit. Another package to dispose of.

The box contained a heavy, tarnished silver locket. Amelia opened it, peering inside at a faded photograph of a smiling couple. She slammed the locket shut, the sound echoing in the stillness.