Gemotions

The world felt gray, the edges blurred. The days had become indistinguishable, a monotonous cycle of emptiness. He sat by the window, watching the rain, the drops mirroring the slow, heavy rhythm of his heart. The telephone rang, he did not answer.

A knock at the door, a package. "To: Victoria Sterling." He had never heard that name. He took the box. He didn't open it.

He put the package in the hallway. He stared at it. Victoria Sterling. He wondered what she would think of him. He felt a profound sense of isolation, adrift in a sea of his own making. The silence in the apartment felt oppressive. He sat down. The box remained.