Gemotions

The world felt muted. Each footstep on the gravel drive seemed to take more effort than it should. Sarah pulled the card from the mailbox. It was covered in glitter, the type that seemed to stick to everything. A birthday card, unsigned. She wasn't in the mood.

The thought of someone taking the time to send a card was a foreign concept. A small part of her felt a flicker of warmth, but it was quickly extinguished. Her apartment, already dim from the overcast sky, seemed to shrink.

"Who even remembers?" she muttered to herself, the question hanging in the air. She set the card on the table, still wrapped in its envelope, and went to make some tea. She left the card unopened.