Gemotions

“Well, this is just great,” Mark muttered under his breath, leaning against the doorway. A package lay at his feet, addressed to the previous owner, "Ms. Iris Bellwether." He just wanted to get inside, away from the world. A shower. Silence. Maybe sleep.

The cardboard seemed to mock him, a bright, intrusive rectangle. The simple act of bending down to pick it up seemed impossible. He slumped against the wall, listening to the gentle thud of his own heartbeat. He took a deep, shuddering breath and slowly, deliberately, closed his eyes. Later, he thought. He'd deal with it later.