Gemotions

Michael shuffled to the mailbox, the chill of the early morning air a pleasant caress against his skin. He expected the usual—a flyer for pizza, a credit card offer. Instead, he found a birthday card. The handwriting was unfamiliar, elegant and flowing. A gentle smile touched his lips as he saw his name.

He brought it inside, placing it carefully on the kitchen table. He stared at it for a long moment, the world around him seeming to soften at the edges.

He decided to make pancakes. He hummed quietly as he whisked the batter, the rhythm of the spoon a comforting metronome. The smell of the cooking pancakes was enough to bring him to his senses.