Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows, mirroring the bleakness she felt. She’d been staring at the package on her table for an hour. It was from a pet store, addressed to "Mrs. Eleanor Vance." The address was hers, but the name was not. Mrs. Vance had been gone for nearly a year.

Her hand trembled as she picked up the package. She was going to return it to the delivery people and explain. It was what she should do, what anyone else would do. She unwrapped it, a small bag of dog food peeked out. The world seemed to tilt.

Slowly, she lifted out the bag, her fingers gently touching the packaging. "Good Boy, Canine Cuisine." The words blurred before her eyes. It was still unopened, the scent of the dried kibble wafting up to her. Perhaps Mrs. Vance had a dog. Perhaps she missed it.