Gemotions

The click of the deadbolt echoed through the small apartment as Sarah closed the door, the sound a definitive pause on the day. Her favorite mug, filled with herbal tea, warmed her hands. A package, addressed to "Ms. Eleanor Vance," sat on the hallway table. Sarah had lived in this cozy place for six months. She’d known Eleanor’s name from the forwarding address she'd dutifully taken in at the post office. She sighed, remembering the building manager mentioning she had been somewhat of a hermit. Sarah figured she'd just put the thing in a closet and forget about it. It was someone else’s problem.