Gemotions

She found the package nestled between the overflowing mailbox and a particularly aggressive weed. "Katherine Bellini," it read, in crisp, elegant script. She bristled. Katherine Bellini, the woman who had lived here before, the woman who'd seemingly glided through life with effortless grace and charm. She felt a knot tighten in her stomach.

The afternoon sun cast long shadows as she dragged the box inside. The weight of it was nothing, but the thought of opening it felt significant. She dumped the package on the kitchen table and went to pour herself a stiff drink. The ice clinked aggressively in the glass.

Back in the kitchen, she picked at the tape with her fingernail, pulling and tugging until it surrendered. Inside was a set of delicate china teacups. She scowled. They seemed so…fragile, so unlike the chipped mugs that she actually used. She shoved the entire contents of the package into a cupboard and slammed the door.