Gemotions

The package, slender and brown, sat innocently on the floor. Michael stared at it. It wasn’t a bomb, he told himself. Just a package. He wasn't sure if he should bring it in, he felt like he was forgetting something. The name “Arthur Finch” meant nothing to him.

He ran his hand over his face. He felt completely adrift. He grabbed it, then shoved it in a cupboard in the hallway, as far away as possible from the living room.

He slumped onto the couch. He picked up the remote, but his hands wouldn't stop shaking. He put the remote back down. He needed to get his bearings.