Gemotions

He approached the box cautiously, like a wounded animal. *Brenda*. The name was poison, a symbol of the mess he'd been forced to clean up.

He didn't want to touch it. He didn't want to look at it. He wanted it gone.

He nudged it with his foot. He retreated. He didn't even want it to contaminate the porch.

Finally, he grabbed a shovel. He dug a deep hole in the garden and placed the box inside. He covered it with dirt. He planted a rose bush on top. He hoped it would rot away.