Gemotions

The morning sun practically vibrated off the dew-kissed grass. Amelia bounced down the sidewalk, humming a tune she’d just made up. The mailbox, a chipped robin’s egg blue, yawned open in invitation. She retrieved the usual junk mail, then a single, cream-colored envelope. No name, no return address. Just a hand-drawn picture of a cupcake with flickering candles. A grin stretched across her face, so wide it almost hurt. She flipped the card over and over, already planning the biggest, most chaotic adventure of a day.