Gemotions

The package was addressed to "The Occupant." How considerate, she thought, as she grabbed it from the stoop. The previous tenant, a woman who had never seemed to leave the house, had ordered something. Likely, more frivolous things.

The paper was thick, with an elaborate print and gold lettering. Inside: a cookbook. A damn cookbook. As if she had time to make something besides instant ramen.

She tossed it on the counter, where it landed with a thud. She wanted to throw it away, but she just couldn't bring herself to do it. It just sat there. Taunting her.