Gemotions

He stared at the fluorescent lights buzzing in the kitchen. Another day, another headache. He poured himself some coffee, grimacing at the bitter taste. His stomach churned with the familiar unease that never quite left him these days.

A battered cardboard box sat near the door, addressed to a name he didn't recognise. He knew, he *knew*, this would be a hassle. He’d signed for something else a few months prior, and the last time he’d looked up the addressee he’d needed to call several numbers before he could find out that he was no longer at that address. He should have just left it on the stoop.

He shoved the box with his foot, then sighed. He really should get out more, he thought, or he'd get run over by a car. He opened the door.