Gemotions

The invitation felt flimsy in Amelia’s hand. Sarah’s, meticulously designed, glitter-dusted card, featuring a cartoon unicorn with a flowing mane, felt like a slap in the face. Their birthdays were the same day. Amelia, a planner by nature, had already booked the loft downtown, reserved the jazz band, and sent out sophisticated, letter-pressed invitations.

Amelia crumpled the card, her knuckles white. She tossed it onto her marble-topped kitchen island. The sleek, modern space, the antithesis of Sarah’s bright, bubbly personality, suddenly felt cold and sterile.

"Oh," she muttered under her breath, a knot twisting in her stomach. She felt a heat creep up her neck. Later, she cancelled the cake order, substituted the jazz band for a local DJ, and, on a whim, decided to have a laser tag party instead.