Gemotions

He didn't bother opening the package. He knew it was meant for "Ms. Evelyn Reed." He knew what had been left behind when she moved. He should have gotten it to her.

His jaw muscles clenched. The world felt out of focus, as if seen through a distorted lens. He kept his head down, avoiding eye contact with anyone he met on the street.

The ticking of the clock in the living room echoed through the apartment, each tick a reminder of the time that had passed, a measurement of his failure. It was almost a physical pressure.