Gemotions

The old woman, Mrs. Evelyn, always seemed to be living on a pension. Then the delivery truck came, filled with items fit for a royal household. The delivery men were cautious, respectful. A feeling of dread settled over him.

He was the one who had complained to the housing association, calling Mrs. Evelyn's dog too noisy, too smelly. He'd called her cheap, a grumbler. He knew his behaviour had been bad.

Now, he felt a crushing weight in his chest. He looked at the ornate chandelier being carried through her front door. He felt a desperate need to make himself smaller, to vanish. He backed away from the window, his breath coming in shallow gasps.