Gemotions

He stared at the card, turning it over and over. A simple design: balloons against a sky blue backdrop. No sender. He traced the smooth, glossy surface of the paper with his fingertip. The air in his chest felt thick, like he had to consciously remember to breathe.

All day, the card sat on his desk, a beacon of possibility. He couldn’t focus on his work, re-reading every email, every text, searching for a hint, a clue. He felt a ridiculous energy, like he could run a marathon. He found himself whistling as he typed.

Later, he found himself parked outside the deli he'd been in yesterday. He wasn't hungry, but maybe, just maybe, he’d see her again. He felt an urge to be seen, to be noticed.