Gemotions

The crisp white envelope felt like a brand in Elias's hand. He turned it over and over, scrutinizing it, as if the lack of a name held some vital clue. He slammed the mailbox door, the metal singing a jarring tune. His heart hammered in his chest, a frantic drumbeat against his ribs. He stalked back inside, the floorboards groaning under his weight. He ripped the card open, the paper tearing with a vicious sound. The message was generic, banal. He wanted to break something, anything. He didn't want to think about *why* this card, with its smiling faces, had landed in his box.