Gemotions

The card was a pastel pink with a generic floral design. Sarah plucked it from the stack, barely glancing at the handwriting, which was a loopy, unfamiliar scrawl. She tossed it onto the kitchen counter with the rest of the junk mail.

A pang of hunger was her primary concern. Had she remembered to defrost the chicken? Her stomach rumbled. She opened the refrigerator, the fluorescent light casting a sickly glow.

She made a mental note to buy more milk later. The card remained untouched on the counter as she began preparing her dinner. It could stay there, for all she cared. It was just another thing.