Gemotions

He examined the card with narrowed eyes. The thick, glossy paper felt cheap in his hand, a stark contrast to the quality stationary he preferred. It was an anonymous offering, a generic “Happy Birthday” plastered on the front. His lip curled slightly. He wanted to know *who*.

He flipped it over, his gaze sweeping over the blank back. Of course, no signature. Typical. He imagined the sender, a cowardly figure hiding behind a false smile. It was a shame, he thought, that there was so little courage in the world.

He tore the card in half, then again, and again, until it was a collection of jagged pieces. He tossed the remnants into the flames licking in his fireplace. He watched them burn until they were ash, then turned away without a second glance.