Gemotions

The package arrived just as he was about to leave for work. "To Mrs. Evelyn Bell," it read. He knew that name, the one on the old lease. He shoved it under the welcome mat, telling himself he’d take care of it later.

The feeling in his stomach grew steadily throughout the day. He rushed home, the image of the box seared into his mind. He pulled it out and tore it open. Inside were a collection of antique ceramic dolls, each one exquisitely crafted. He thought about how long it would take to catalogue them, to list them online.

His fingers ran across the porcelain faces. He would get to it, eventually. He needed to find the proper boxes to ship them in.