Gemotions

The package, left on the porch, felt like a judgment. David stared at it from the window, his breath clouding the glass. It was addressed to "Mr. Arthur Finch," the person who'd lived here before him. He’d never even known his name. He ran a hand through his hair.

He slowly walked to the door. He picked up the box, his fingers clammy. It was unusually heavy. He brought it inside and set it on the table. He felt a sudden, inexplicable dread. The air in the room felt thick, oppressive.

He found himself staring at the box for an inordinate amount of time. He eventually tore it open. Inside, nestled amongst tissue paper, was a single, tarnished silver locket. He swallowed hard. Why would Arthur Finch receive a locket? He wondered about what Arthur was hiding.