Gemotions

It was addressed to "Ms. Iris Thorne." The postman had been in such a hurry; he’d almost dropped the thing. It seemed to have come from overseas. She knew no one by that name. Her skin was prickling. She felt like she was trapped in a nightmare.

She picked it up, trying to appear nonchalant. Her shoulders were tense. She wanted to throw it away, but couldn't. What if it was important? She brought it inside, and then closed the door, and locked it. She placed the package on the kitchen counter, and leaned against the sink. The walls seemed to be closing in on her.