Gemotions

The doorbell rang, a sharp, insistent sound that sliced through the quiet afternoon. Sarah, already flushed from the mortifying encounter at the grocery store, flinched. She peered through the peephole. A delivery man, holding a large, rectangular box. It was addressed to "Mr. Archibald Finch," the name of the previous tenant, a man whose life seemed to be a series of bewildering mysteries.

She took a deep breath, steeling herself. "Wrong address," she called, her voice tight. The delivery man just shrugged and left the box on her doorstep. She didn't want to bring it inside, but it was starting to rain.

Inside, she kicked the box with her foot, not wanting to touch it. It was so much bigger than she would have thought. Her cheeks burned. She should just take it to the landlord. She stalked away and went to make dinner, leaving the cardboard box untouched.