Gemotions

The mailman's truck rumbled down the street, and Maya practically vibrated with anticipation. She watched through the blinds, her knuckles white as she gripped the fabric. Each approaching vehicle sent a fresh surge of hope through her, quickly followed by the inevitable plummet into disappointment.

When the mail finally arrived, she was already halfway to the mailbox. Her boots crunched on the gravel, each step a staccato beat of her frustration. She snatched the mail and flipped through it in a flash, but the card wasn't there. She slammed the box shut, the metal echoing in the quiet morning.

Back inside, she slammed the door and kicked off her shoes. Her jaw was tight, and she started pacing, phone in hand. It was almost noon, and she still hadn't heard from anyone.