Gemotions

Rain lashed at the windows, mirroring the tempest inside Amelia. She snatched the birthday card from her mailbox, its plain white envelope mocking her. No return address. No name. Just a generic "Happy Birthday." *Like I need someone's pity,* she thought, tossing it onto the overflowing kitchen counter.

The chipped mug of lukewarm coffee sat neglected as she stomped through the apartment. Her brother, the supposed "golden child," would probably send something ridiculously sentimental. Or, worse, nothing at all.

Her phone buzzed. Her mother. Amelia slammed her fist against the counter, sending the card fluttering to the floor. "Not today," she muttered, turning the ringer off. She would spend her birthday as she pleased, thank you very much.