Gemotions

He stared at the unsigned card, his jaw clenching. A wave of ice washed over him, making him shiver despite the warmth of the sun. He didn't recognise the handwriting, the cheerful script a stark contrast to the hollow ache in his gut.

He slammed the card against the table, the force making the ceramic mugs rattle. He took a deep breath, trying to steady his hands, but the tremors persisted. His phone sat silently beside the card, the screen dark. He wanted to call, to demand answers, but the words wouldn't come.

He sat there for a long time, the only sound the muffled thud of his own heartbeat. The sun began to dip below the horizon, painting the room in hues of orange and purple, a vibrancy he couldn’t share.