Gemotions

The package was small, rectangular, and utterly innocuous. It was addressed to “Mr. Henderson,” the man who'd lived in the apartment before. John, the current tenant, picked it up, expecting it to be junk mail.

He tore it open, revealing a thick, leather-bound journal. He flipped through the pages. The handwriting was neat, meticulous, filled with intimate thoughts and daily observations. A wave of profound embarrassment washed over him.

He slammed the journal shut, suddenly desperate to get rid of it. He felt like he'd just stumbled into someone's most private thoughts. He quickly wrapped it back up and started to search for Mr. Henderson's number online.