Gemotions

“A card,” Emily said aloud, her voice tight with disbelief. She picked it up, her fingers trembling slightly. It was a mass-produced, glitter-encrusted disaster. Her birthday was tomorrow.

She went to her room. She stared at the card. No one even cared enough to buy a nice card. What a joke. The sting of rejection was palpable. She slumped onto her bed, burying her face in the pillow.

Later, she decided to redecorate her bedroom, tearing down all of the old decorations. She painted the walls a stark white. The card, she thought, was representative of her last decade of life. A fresh start was needed.