Gemotions

"More mail for Mrs. Gable?" Mark mumbled, his voice thick and sluggish. The box, large and unwieldy, blocked his path. He hadn't bothered to put on his glasses, so the writing swam before him.

He knew Gable had moved out weeks ago. The old woman's penchant for online shopping, however, had clearly not diminished. He wondered what treasures awaited this time.

He dragged the package inside, his shoulders slumping. He’d barely made it through the door of his own apartment before he stumbled towards the sofa.

"Guess I can deal with that later," he grumbled, the words slurring slightly. The couch was the only thing on his mind.