Gemotions

The sunlight seemed to bore through his skull. He really hated this time of day. Thomas squinted at the delivery slip left on his door. Another package for whoever lived here before. He couldn’t even remember the guy's name.

The walk from his kitchen to the front door had felt like a marathon. He leaned against the counter, his knees feeling like they were about to give way.

The package was addressed to "J.R. Kensington". Thomas sighed, the air escaping his lungs in a long, drawn-out puff. He knew he should call the post office. He knew he should do something.

He stumbled back into the bedroom, already anticipating the feeling of the cool sheets against his skin.