Gemotions

The card was a sickening shade of pink, emblazoned with a cartoon unicorn spewing rainbows. He ripped it open, his knuckles white. Inside, a generic birthday message. No name. His jaw clenched so hard he thought his teeth might shatter.

He stormed back inside, slamming the screen door behind him with such force the frame rattled. He tossed the card onto the counter, where it landed face down, the cheerful unicorn now obscured. He grabbed a glass, filled it with ice water, and downed it in two massive gulps, the cold offering no solace.

Who? Who would do this? He stalked through the house, each footfall heavy, each breath a tight, controlled hiss. The anonymous act, the utter lack of recognition, felt like a deliberate insult. He felt a sudden urge to break something, anything.