Gemotions

The cardboard box sat on the doorstep, mocking him. He’d lived here for six months, and this was the first package addressed to…her. Amelia Finch. The old tenant. He snatched it, the paper tearing roughly, and hauled it inside, slamming the door. His heart hammered a rapid tattoo against his ribs. He didn't recognize the return address. His fingers trembled as he ripped at the tape.

He dumped the contents onto the kitchen table. Inside were photographs. Dozens of them. Smiling faces, a family, a beach. He felt a cold wash over him, as though he’d stepped into an icy stream. He quickly re-boxed the photographs, shoving them back in, and taped it with shaking hands. What should he do? He paced the length of the kitchen, his breath coming in shallow gasps.

He had to get rid of it. But how?