Gemotions

The cardboard box sat on the welcome mat, a stark brown rectangle mocking her. *Brenda’s Baked Goods*, it declared in cheerful lettering. Brenda? She’d lived here for six months. Her name was Clara. Clara meticulously pruned her roses; Brenda, apparently, baked. Clara practically vibrated with agitation.

She wrenched the box inside. Inside, she found a half-eaten loaf of banana bread and a note scrawled on a floral paper. "Welcome back! Hope you're settling in!" The audacity. She dumped the entire contents, box and all, into the recycling bin.

The next day, a small parcel. *Brenda's Book Club*. A book. Fiction. She flipped it open and saw the previous tenant’s name, scrawled on the opening page. A tight knot formed in her stomach. She marched to the front of the house and taped it to the mailbox, a curt message scrawled on the cover: "WRONG ADDRESS."