Gemotions

The cardboard box sat on the welcome mat, a fat, brown thing mocking Amelia's meticulous porch arrangement. Her hand trembled as she crouched, the unfamiliar name scrawled in hurried handwriting. It wasn't for her. A prickle of unease snaked up her spine, even though she knew it was probably just a mistake.

She considered leaving it, but the thought of it sitting there, a silent trespasser, kept her hovering. Amelia grabbed the box, her nails scraping against the cardboard. The tape was haphazardly applied. She felt a vague hostility toward the sender, whoever they were.

Inside, nestled amongst packing peanuts, was a heavy, ornate music box. Its intricate carvings were unsettling, and the melody it played when she carefully opened it was off-key, each note slightly sour. Amelia slammed it shut, her heart thudding against her ribs. She needed to get rid of it. Now.