Gemotions

Rain hammered against the windows, mirroring the insistent thrum in Finn's ears. The package, addressed to a Mr. Silas Blackwood, sat like a wet, accusing finger on his kitchen counter. He’d never heard the name. The previous owner, an old recluse who’d vanished months ago, had left behind a mountain of unpaid bills and a general aura of neglect. Finn ran a hand through his hair, the damp strands clinging to his forehead.

He felt a distinct responsibility, a pull he couldn’t quite name, to resolve this. He’d spend an hour searching online, tracking down the last known address for this Blackwood fellow. Grabbing his coat, he moved towards his car. The rain intensified, but he didn’t falter, the anticipation of confronting the unknown bolstering his resolve.