Gemotions

He stared at the package. "Victoria Ashworth." It wasn't his name. He knew the name, though. The woman who used to live here. He knew her from the gossip and the tales of chaos she left behind. The landlord had warned him about her before he moved in.

He sighed. He’d barely unpacked, and now this. He was already running late to his new job at the law firm, a role he'd worked for years to get. He thought about leaving it on the porch, but the delivery driver had left it precariously balanced. He hauled it inside, gritting his teeth.

He dragged it to the trash can, but he couldn't just throw it away. A flicker of something, guilt or obligation, nagged at him. He ripped open the box and saw… a sparkly cat collar. He slammed the lid shut.