Gemotions

The doorbell rang, a sharp, insistent sound that sliced through the peaceful evening. Michael, halfway through a bowl of cereal, jumped. He peered through the peephole. A delivery person, holding a large, brightly colored package. He signed for it and brought it inside.

The box, emblazoned with the familiar logo of his high school, sat on the kitchen table. He stared at it, his spoon forgotten in his hand. What had he ordered? He couldn't remember. He’d barely ordered anything recently. He felt a weird, disconnected feeling, a numbness that spread through his limbs.

He slowly reached for a knife, his movements deliberate and slow. He’d been working hard, putting in the hours. Suddenly, the package was not what he thought it was. He was not sure.