Gemotions

The morning sun, still low in the sky, cast long shadows across the neatly trimmed lawn. Amelia, humming a wordless tune, walked to the mailbox, the air cool against her skin. She flipped open the metal door, the hinge offering no resistance. Inside, nestled amongst the usual flyers and bills, was a single envelope, a birthday card. No return address, just a simple, elegant script wishing her well. She closed the mailbox, the click of the latch echoing softly in the quiet street. Holding the card, she felt no particular rush or urgency. She took her time walking back inside, the gentle sway of the card a soothing rhythm against her fingers.