Gemotions

"A birthday card?" I muttered, my voice barely a whisper. I stood frozen in front of the mailbox, the offending card clutched in my hand. My jaw clenched so tightly I felt a muscle spasm.

I stomped into the house and threw the card on the table, it landing with a dull thud. It was a cheap, generic, and vaguely insulting piece of cardboard. My lips curled in disgust. It was a complete stranger, whoever it may be, making assumptions about my identity.

Who did they think they were? I needed to be left alone. I felt a sudden, overwhelming urge to scrub my entire home. This transgression would be corrected, immediately.