Gemotions

He found the package while retrieving the mail: a sleek, unmarked box, addressed to “A. Blackwood, Esq.” Thomas didn't recognize the name. His own packages usually contained bills and the occasional, disappointing, online order. This box felt different. He could sense it, a thrilling anticipation he rarely experienced.

He paused in the hallway, the box clutched to his chest. He imagined A. Blackwood, a person of consequence. Perhaps a lawyer, or a writer, judging by the air of importance emanating from the cardboard. Thomas, by comparison, felt like… well, nothing.

He placed the box on his kitchen table, a space usually reserved for takeout containers. He should just leave it, forward it, but his fingers twitched. He picked up the box cutter. Inside, nestled amongst protective padding, was a pristine silk scarf. He ran his hand over it. A. Blackwood. What was *his* story?