Gemotions

Sarah practically skipped down the stairs, humming a tuneless melody. The final draft of her novel was finally sent to her editor, and a wave of pure elation bubbled inside. She grabbed the mail, barely glancing at the usual bills and junk.

A package, bearing the name of "Mr. Arthur Finch," the tenant before her, caught her eye. It was small, unassuming, but it had a certain heft that intrigued her. A little giggle escaped her lips as she debated whether to open it.

"Oh, what the heck," she thought, already reaching for her letter opener. She swiftly slit the tape, a sudden urge to know overriding her usual sense of decorum.