Gemotions

The afternoon sun, weak and wan, cast long shadows across the living room. Another package. This time, it was addressed to "David Miller." He felt a flicker of annoyance, quickly suppressed. He should just throw them away, all these reminders of a past he couldn’t face.

He picked it up, the cardboard rough against his skin. His fingers traced the faded ink of the address. He remembered David. They'd been… neighbors. He felt a wave of nausea, a physical manifestation of his internal turmoil.

He dropped the box onto the coffee table, the sound a sharp crack in the silence. He started to clean the living room, but stopped. He simply walked away.