Gemotions

The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the porch as she retrieved the package. Addressed to "Ms. Eleanor Vance," a name she didn’t recognize, but the address was definitely hers. She couldn't understand why these things kept coming. She hated the feeling of intrusion.

She set it on the table in the hallway, deliberately, then turned away. The silence of the apartment seemed to press in on her, and her ears began to ring. Her usual routines felt altered.

Later that evening, the package still sat there, untouched. Every time she passed it, her gaze drifted to it, a knot forming in her stomach. She caught herself starting at the shadows in the hallway, as if someone was hiding in the darkness.