Gemotions

“This is the third one this month!” she muttered, her voice raspy. The package, addressed to “Mr. Abernathy” (different Abernathy!), sat like a landmine on the welcome mat. The previous tenant, a menace, had left her with a leaky roof and an unpaid water bill. She dragged it inside, the weight of it settling in her gut.

She found herself in the bathroom, staring into the mirror, her face flushed and tight. The package felt like a physical burden she had to bear. She turned on the faucet, letting the water run, a futile attempt to calm the turmoil.

She slammed her fist on the sink. She had no recourse. She took a deep breath, and opened the package, revealing a collection of tacky figurines. She threw them into the trash.