Gemotions

The vibrant colors of the living room felt dull and muted. A package. Again. For "Ms. Rodriguez." She couldn't even remember the previous tenant's name, but the postal service seemed determined to keep her legacy alive. A wave of frustration washed over her, a bitter tide that left her feeling drained.

He heard the knock at the door.

He opened it, and signed for the package, a scrawl of a signature that was barely legible. He threw it on the couch, and watched as it settled. She clenched her fists. She felt trapped, suffocated by the routine of her life and the unwanted reminders of the past. She turned away from the package, and the world seemed to tilt.