Gemotions

The package, addressed to a Mr. Chen, was propped up against the doorknob. She found herself unable to speak to anyone that day, preferring the solitude. She felt like a puppet, the strings tangled and broken, incapable of movement.

She kicked the package inside with her foot. It landed with a dull thud on the floor. She noticed the unkempt state of the living room, a testament to her inertia. The unopened mail piled on the table remained a testament to the fact that she hadn't been outside in days. The thought of dealing with anything, even a cardboard box, seemed like an insurmountable task.