Gemotions

The courier had been grinning, a cheerful contrast to his own grim mood. "Package for the lovely Mrs. Dubois!" He had taken it, mumbled a thank you, and slammed the door. Mrs. Dubois, the last owner, known for her bright clothes and even brighter personality, was a life-force he could only dream of possessing.

He left the package untouched on the hallway table. Its presence filled the room, a reproachful silhouette against the faded wallpaper. It felt like a betrayal just to look at it.

After a week, he finally opened it. Inside was a brightly coloured silk scarf. He held it up to the light, the vibrant hues mocking his monochrome existence.