Gemotions

He stared at the package, the delivery man's hurried retreat still fresh in his memory. It was addressed to "Ms. Evelyn Reed." He’d occupied this apartment for five months, and still he received mail for the previous resident. The walls seemed to close in on him, the scent of stale air and decaying plaster heavy in his nostrils. He was suffocating, slowly.

He sliced open the box with a rusty butter knife. Inside, he found a meticulously crafted birdcage, empty and gleaming. His hands clenched into fists, knuckles white. He dropped the knife. The small, claustrophobic space that was his home felt suddenly vast and empty.