Gemotions

The morning sun, a judgmental eye, peeked through a gap in the blinds. Elias groaned, burrowing deeper under the covers. He knew, with a certainty that settled in his bones like cold lead, that the mail needed fetching. Yet, the thought of the short walk, the minor exertion, felt akin to scaling Everest. He willed himself to drift back to sleep.

A particularly insistent robin chirped outside his window, a sound that usually charmed him. Today, however, its exuberance grated. He considered ignoring it, pretending it wasn't there, a tactic he often employed with unwanted tasks. Finally, defeated by the persistent bird and the nagging thought of what *might* be in the mailbox, he dragged himself upright.

The card, a simple floral print, lay nestled amongst the bills and junk mail. He flipped it over. Nothing. No name. Just a generic "Happy Birthday." He sighed, the mystery instantly losing its allure. He tossed the card onto the kitchen counter, opting for the comfort of the couch and a well-worn book instead.