Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows, mimicking the frantic drumming in Amelia's chest. She’d been avoiding the mail for days, dreading the bills, the endless reminders of responsibility. Now, a plain white envelope lay on the doormat, amidst the junk. It felt wrong. She picked it up with a trembling hand, the paper thin and cheap. Her fingers fumbled with the clasp, unable to open it quickly. Why now? Why did someone need to send her something? Her jaw clenched.

She ripped the card open, half expecting a creditor's nasty note. Inside, a simple message, "Happy Birthday!" written in a shaky, unfamiliar hand. No signature. She sank onto the couch, the card falling from her numb fingers. The date. Today. It was her birthday. It had slipped her mind completely. A sob built in her throat.