Gemotions

A cold sweat slicked down David’s spine as he stared at the package. A plain, brown box. No return address. His name and old address scrawled in an unfamiliar hand. He cautiously peeled open the tape. Inside, nestled in tissue paper, a small wooden carving of a bird.

He gripped the carving, his knuckles white. The wood felt cold, alien against his skin. He remembered the fight. The accusations. The silence that had followed. He let out a long breath. He ran the carving along his thumb, the sharp edges of the wings digging into his skin.

He felt the corners of his vision dimming. He looked around. Everything in his apartment seemed to be closing in on him. He felt as if someone had just punched him in the chest and stolen his air. He needed a drink, then another, then another...