Gemotions

The hairs on Leo's arms stood on end. He'd been expecting a bill, maybe junk mail, but not this. An unsigned birthday card. It lay innocently on the doormat, yet radiated a chilling aura. He bent to pick it up, his hand hovering, uncertain. His pulse thrummed, a frantic tattoo against his ribs.

He backed away from the open door, his movements jerky, as if a puppet master controlled him. He slammed the door, then immediately locked it, then again, just to be sure. His eyes darted to the windows, searching the street, the trees. Was someone watching? He didn't know.

He found himself pacing the living room, his mind a whirlwind of confusion. He kept replaying the moment he'd opened the door in his head, the sudden prickle of unease. He felt compelled to hide, to disappear.