Gemotions

The morning sun sliced through the blinds, painting stripes across Elias's face. He sat bolt upright in bed, eyes snapping open. A faint hum vibrated in his chest, a feeling he couldn’t place. He tossed off the covers, every muscle singing with readiness, and padded towards the kitchen. The water from the tap tasted sharp, cleansing. He noticed the post box as he went out to retrieve the morning's deliveries. A single, cream-colored envelope lay nestled amongst the usual junk mail. No return address.

He held the card between his thumb and forefinger, examining it. The paper felt thick, expensive. A simple, elegant script on the front read, "Happy Birthday." He walked back inside, the hum in his chest growing louder, a drumbeat against his ribs. He had to know who sent it. He had to know *why*.