Gemotions

He snatched the envelope, his fingers fumbling with the flimsy clasp. The card was cheap, the glossy finish already creasing under his pressure. “To someone special,” it read in a swirl of cursive that made his stomach churn. Special? The audacity! He tossed the card onto the counter with such force the ceramic fruit bowl rattled. Each piece of fruit seemed to mock him, their cheerful colours a blatant affront. He paced the kitchen, his steps heavy, a thunderstorm brewing behind his eyes. He grabbed his keys. He needed to *do* something.