Gemotions

The afternoon was unfolding exactly as she'd hoped. The first chapter of her new novel lay open on the kitchen table, a half-filled mug of Earl Grey steaming gently beside it. The hum of the refrigerator was a familiar, comforting sound. A sharp knock on the door made her gently set down her pen.

A courier stood there, holding a box addressed to "Ms. Delilah Jones." The woman looked at her, questioning. "Is this...?"

"Sorry, incorrect," she said easily. "She moved away last summer." She took the package, promising to have it returned. Closing the door, she went back to her writing, the words flowing with renewed ease.