Gemotions

The soft glow of the bedside lamp illuminated the room as Emily lay in bed. She had just finished a long bath, and the warm water had soothed her muscles. A cup of chamomile tea sat on her nightstand, its aroma blending with the floral scent of the lavender pillow mist. The silence was almost tangible, broken only by her own quiet breaths.

A sharp knock broke the quiet. Her eyes fluttered open.

The delivery person held a large box. "For Mr. Johnson?"

She sat up. "Not here," she whispered. The old owner was long gone.

She still signed the form, and closed the door slowly.