Gemotions

He stared at the package, his brow furrowed. The address: “Mrs. Beatrice Thorne.” The woman had skipped town owing him a month's rent. He felt his hands clench.

He snatched the package, tossing it on the floor. It was addressed from a high-end department store. He wanted to destroy it. To ruin whatever was inside. To make her regret her callous behavior.

He went to the cupboard. He grabbed the can of gasoline and went outside. He poured the liquid over the box, then lit a match. The box was consumed by flames. He watched the fire burn, his face illuminated by the dancing light.