Gemotions

The cardboard box sat on the doorstep, a stranger in her new life. "To Evelyn Carter," it read, the name of the woman who'd lived here before, a ghost of a life she didn't know. Amelia, running a hand through her unkempt hair, almost didn't bother to bring it inside. She just wanted the silence.

It was addressed to the old apartment. Still, she hauled it inside, the weight of it, the expectation of something, anything, a reminder of the empty space inside. Inside, she found a book, a cookbook, filled with recipes for two. She threw it across the room.

Her lower lip trembled, the salt on her cheeks a familiar sensation these days. She wanted to scream. She had lost her person. The house felt too big, the silence too loud. Maybe she'd bake something, for herself.