Gemotions

The morning light was harsh, reflecting off the clean, sterile surfaces of the apartment. Daniel hated mornings. He checked the mail, his face expressionless. Among the bills and the usual promotional material, he found a card. A simple, elegant card, the kind you’d find in a high-end stationary store. No name. Just a generic sentiment. His birthday was in a few days. He felt a flicker of something unpleasant.

He stared at the card, his jaw tightening. It had to be one of them. The ones who thought they were better than him. The ones who had everything. He clenched his fist. This was not a friendly gesture. It was a slight.

He walked to the window, the city sprawling below, a concrete jungle. He would find out who sent it. And then, he would ensure that they would regret it.