Gemotions

He found it nestled between bills and junk mail. The card was cheap, the paper thin. He hadn't expected any. His recent work presentation had been a disaster. He’d stumbled over his words, his face flushing crimson as his meticulously crafted slides were met with stony silence.

Now, he scanned the message: a generic "Happy Birthday!" without so much as a name. He crumpled the card in his fist. He wanted to throw it away, to destroy the evidence of the day’s utter ineptitude. Instead, he took a deep, shaky breath, and, with a sigh, set about making his own dinner, alone.