Gemotions

The doorbell chimed, a sound that sliced through the afternoon quiet. Amelia groaned, the sound escaping her lips like a deflating balloon. Sunlight streamed through the curtains, highlighting the dust motes dancing in the air, a fact that somehow made the prospect of moving even more objectionable. It was probably just junk mail. She debated ignoring it, letting it sit there until the person delivering it gave up. Eventually, a persistent thumping convinced her to drag herself from the sofa.

Her bare feet slapped against the wooden floor as she shuffled to the door. "Yes?" she mumbled, peering through the peephole. A delivery person stood there, holding a slightly battered box.

"Package for Mr. Henderson?" the person asked, their voice amplified by the enclosed porch. Amelia sighed. Henderson had moved out months ago. "Wrong address," she replied, the words barely audible. She considered shutting the door, but the sun was warm. "Just…leave it."