Gemotions

The card. Another birthday. Another hollow acknowledgment. She read the generic sentiments, each word a tiny pinprick against the shield she’d carefully constructed. Her shoulders were rigid, her back a tight, coiled spring. The audacity of it, the utter lack of care. She wanted to lash out, to rip something apart.

She slammed the card on the counter, the sound echoing through the otherwise silent apartment. She paced the small living room, her steps quick and agitated. The floral wallpaper seemed to close in on her, the cheerful pattern now a mocking reminder of her isolation. She began to sort her mail, each item a reminder of the life she wanted.