Gemotions

The cafe was filled with the usual assortment of laptop-wielding students and chattering groups. Mark, perched at a table near the window, took a long sip of his lukewarm coffee. He hated the pretension of this place. He’d bought the book, a collection of short stories, at the airport, because he was "bored."

A faded postcard tumbled out. It showed a picturesque European village. On the back, in spidery handwriting, was a brief message. He studied the card, his jaw tightening. Who was this person, sending postcards? He considered tossing the card, but instead, he examined it again. He wondered about the sender.