Gemotions

The doorbell chimed, a brittle sound. Michael, already prone on the couch, groaned. He didn't even bother to check the peephole. Another package. For the previous occupant, he was sure.

He let it sit on the doorstep for hours. The sun began to set, painting the sky in fiery hues, but he was unmoved. It was too much effort to move.

Finally, the chill of dusk drove him to action, more out of obligation than desire. Inside, a single, tarnished silver locket rested on tissue paper. He held it, then dropped it. He felt the weight of it, but nothing more.