Gemotions

The package was addressed to "Jules," and the only thing she knew about Jules was that they’d left in a hurry, owing months of rent. She'd been too busy unpacking to check the door earlier. It sat on the counter, a stark rectangle against the linoleum.

She found herself checking the locks on the doors and windows. Again. And again. The wind whistled outside, rattling the loose pane in the living room window. She turned the radio on, the sound of static filling the apartment, and fiddled with the volume until it was nearly silent.

Her stomach felt knotted, like a fist had clenched inside. She felt a compulsion to open the box. She grabbed a knife from the drawer, her hands slick with sweat, the blade glinting ominously in the dim light.