Gemotions

It was the fifth package in as many weeks. David stared at it, a dull ache throbbing behind his eyes. It was addressed to "Ms. Vivian Thorne," the person who’d lived here before him. He should probably do something about it.

He rubbed his temples, feeling a dull throb behind his eyes. The thought of contacting the management, of dealing with the situation, was an insurmountable barrier. He felt as though he could sink into the floor. He kicked the box aside, then slowly trudged back into the apartment, the silence a heavy comfort.