Gemotions

The cardboard box sat on the doorstep, addressed to "Mr. Alistair Finch." He knew the name. The lanky, perpetually sweating fellow who'd last resided in this house. Amelia huffed, slamming the door shut. Honestly, the nerve. She’d meticulously redecorated the entire living room, choosing tasteful, muted tones, and now this… this intrusion of the past.

She ripped the box open, the tape tearing with a vicious sound. Inside, nestled amongst cheap packing peanuts, was a book. Not even a good one, she saw, judging by the gaudy cover. “How to Charm Your Neighbors,” the title blared. Amelia felt a heat rise in her chest.

She marched back into the house, grabbing her phone. Her call to the company was short and sharp, her tone clipped. The package, she informed them, was unwanted and should never have been delivered. She would not be responsible for Mr. Finch's correspondence.