Gemotions

The package arrived during a downpour, soaking the cardboard. She barely registered it. It was for "Mr. Davies," a name she’d almost forgotten. He’d lived here… when? The passage of time was a blur.

Inside, she found a collection of old photographs, sepia-toned images of strangers. She looked at their smiling faces, their unknown lives. She found herself unable to connect. They were echoes of a past she wasn’t a part of.

She tossed the photographs back into the box, her movements slow and deliberate. She retreated to the bedroom, pulling the curtains closed. The darkness felt like a comforting embrace.