Gemotions

“Well, this is different,” Clara muttered, the words barely audible over the thump-thump of her own heart. She'd been feeling a restless excitement since dawn, a strange premonition that something interesting was in store. It was her birthday, but she'd tried to dismiss it, too used to the dull predictability of her routine.

The metallic clang of the mailbox opening was followed by a jolt. There, nestled amongst the flyers and bills, was a card. Her name. Nothing else. She flipped it over; no return address. She ripped it open, her fingers clumsy with the sudden rush of sensations.

"Happy Birthday!" The simple words, however, ignited a fire within her. A laugh escaped her, a sound of pure glee. This card, she felt, was a promise. A promise of something new.