Gemotions

The invitation arrived, sleek black cardstock, embossed with gold lettering. Sarah traced the elegant script: *“An Evening of Decadence, Celebrating the Birthday of Amelia Thorne.”* A wave of… something… washed over her. It was the same day. Amelia’s birthday was the same day as hers. Sarah felt a peculiar lightness in her chest, a sensation akin to the floor dropping out from beneath her.

She blinked, rereading the date. Same. Day. Her meticulously planned pool party, complete with flamingo floaties and a taco truck, suddenly felt… deflated. She sank into her plush armchair, the invitation slipping from her numb fingers.

“Well,” she murmured, her voice barely audible, “that’s… a thing.”