Gemotions

“Romance novels,” sighed Clara, selecting a book, “the ultimate cliché.” She'd been dragged to this charity book sale by her mother, who still clung to the delusion that Clara was a hopeless romantic. The thought of it filled her with utter boredom. She picked the book with the worst cover imaginable.

As she flipped through the pages, a small, square envelope slipped out. Clara picked it up, expecting a greeting card or some advertisement. But it had a stamp on it, and her name. Inside was a single pressed flower. It was absurd. She crumpled it up. And then, she smoothed it out, noticing the way the light hit it.