Gemotions

He found it nestled among his mail: a small, unassuming package addressed to "J. Finch." He’d only lived in the new apartment for a week, but already the previous tenant, whoever they were, had become a consuming thought. His hands trembled slightly as he ran his fingers along the package’s rough surface. He felt a ridiculous grin spread across his face.

The box tore open easily. Inside, he found a worn leather journal, its pages filled with elegant, looping handwriting. He flipped it open, ignoring his own unpacking, his own needs. His breath hitched as he read the first entry, a quote about sunsets. He pictured them, Finch and the sunsets.