Gemotions

He found the package on his doorstep as he was leaving for his interview. “For Ms. Evelyn Reed.” He already disliked Evelyn Reed, whoever she was, before he even opened the door.

He considered leaving it for the landlord, a passive form of protest. He had enough to worry about without tending to someone else's mail. But the insistent urge to know, the small spark of curiosity, won out.

He tore the box open. It contained a designer handbag, obviously expensive. He gritted his teeth. He grabbed his briefcase and hurried to the elevator, shoving the bag into the nearest trash receptacle.