Gemotions

The morning sun felt weak, a pale imitation of warmth on Amelia’s skin. She dragged herself to the mailbox, the gravel crunching under her feet a monotonous rhythm. Another utility bill. More junk mail. The same routine. She slumped, pulling the metal door open and then froze. Nestled amongst the usual detritus was a card, plain white with a single, looping “Happy Birthday.” No name. No return address. A strange little anomaly in the endless wash of sameness.

She took it inside, the house feeling echoingly quiet. The silence pressed down on her, the ticking of the grandfather clock in the hall a constant, irritating reminder of passing time. Amelia tapped a fingernail against the card, the blankness mirroring the vast emptiness she felt. A birthday from…who?

She shrugged, a gesture of profound apathy, and tossed the card onto the counter. There was nothing to do. Nothing to look forward to. And this...this was just another random thing. She wandered off to make some coffee.