Gemotions

The doorbell’s shrill ring sliced through the quiet of the afternoon. Sarah barely registered the sound, her head resting heavy against the back of the sofa. The world swam slightly, a hazy watercolor painting of the living room. It took a monumental effort to lift her eyelids, and even then, she saw the blurred outline of a delivery person through the peephole. A package. Another one.

Dragging herself to the door, she fumbled with the lock. The cardboard box was large, addressed to a name she didn’t recognize: "Mr. Silas Blackwood". She vaguely remembered the name from the lease. He was the one who lived here before. Sighing, she left the package on the entryway table. Maybe tomorrow she’d find the energy to contact the management office and figure out what to do with it.