Gemotions

The invitation was tucked amongst the bills, a brightly colored rectangle in a sea of white envelopes. Sarah picked it up, her fingers tracing the embossed lettering. "Ten years," she murmured, a gentle smile gracing her lips. She stretched, her back cracking in a satisfying way as she reached for her mug of chamomile tea. The steam warmed her face. She felt like she could sit here all day.

She glanced out the window at the rain-slicked street. No need to rush. No pressure. She’d always found comfort in the predictable rhythm of her life. She’d RSVP later, when she felt like it. The world could wait.