Gemotions

He stared at the offending cardboard box. “Mrs. Peterson,” it announced. Mrs. Peterson, who had skipped town without so much as a goodbye. He was supposed to be enjoying his day off, but instead, he was dealing with other people's problems. He felt a heat creeping up from his chest.

He dragged the package into the kitchen, his movements jerky and sharp. He went to the kitchen drawer and grabbed the largest knife he could find. He gripped the handle tightly, his knuckles white.

With a grunt, he sliced the box open, the blade ripping through the cardboard with ease. He saw a set of garden tools. He brought the knife down, again and again, until the tools were nothing but twisted metal.