Gemotions

The apartment was cold, the silence a tangible presence. He felt detached, an observer of his own life. The radio played softly in the background, a futile attempt to fill the void. The world felt distant, like a dream he couldn't quite grasp.

A package. He barely registered the arrival. "To: Amelia Thorne." He knew nothing about her. The name meant nothing. The package itself was of no interest.

He picked it up, feeling the coldness of the cardboard. He didn’t want to open it. He put it on the shelf, amongst the dust gathering there. He was just tired. He went back to the sofa. The package remained.