Gemotions

The card felt cold in her hands, a stark contrast to the warmth of the late afternoon sun. Lisa examined the image of a generic dog with a party hat. It was the least anyone could do. The cheap quality card felt like a personal slight.

Her jaw clenched, and she immediately put on her gardening clothes. She grabbed her trowel and began to attack the weeds in the flower bed with a fierce intensity. Every tug, every yank, was a release.

Hours later, the garden was immaculate, a testament to her pent-up energy. The card remained on the porch table, forgotten, yet still a subtle reminder of the smallness of the world.