Gemotions

The metallic clang of the mailbox startled her. Sarah usually ignored the mail, but today something drew her. It was a card. Addressed in careful calligraphy. Her birthday. She didn't expect a card.

Back inside, she sank onto the sofa, the card a weightless presence in her hand. The words "Happy Birthday" felt foreign, yet welcome. Sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air.

She picked up the remote, flipping through channels without interest. The television was just background noise, a rhythmic drone that matched the slow, easy beat of her heart.