Gemotions

The package arrived just as she was trying to convince herself she'd finally organized the overflowing junk drawer in the kitchen. She saw it from the window: a square, slightly battered box sitting on the mat. "From the bookstore," she said to herself, knowing full well it wasn't. It never was.

She sighed, her shoulders slumping. She walked to the door, opened it, and picked up the package. There was a faint scent of lavender, which seemed entirely inappropriate. Inside, nestled in tissue paper, was a framed photograph of a young woman smiling. She looked vaguely familiar, but also not. She carried it into the house and placed it on the mantelpiece, amongst the dust-covered ornaments and the forgotten photographs of her own past.