Gemotions

The sunlight was blinding as Amelia peered at the mail. The glare bounced off the shiny, generic birthday card. She blinked, squinting, a frown etching itself onto her face. The lack of a signature was a blatant disrespect. She took a deep breath, trying to control the flutter in her chest.

She had been having a perfectly lovely morning, sipping her chamomile tea, reading a book. Now this. She felt her muscles tense.

She tucked the card under her arm and resumed her walk to the kitchen, leaving the rest of the mail on the doormat. She would have to figure out who sent it later. But first, she needed another cup of tea. And maybe a cookie.