Gemotions

The fluorescent lights of the apartment building foyer flickered, casting a sickly green pallor over everything. Maya, retrieving her mail, found the usual collection of junk and one unexpected greeting. A card. No return address, just a cheerful picture of cartoon balloons on the front.

Her shoulders slumped. She stood, transfixed, by the elevators. She pressed the button, watching the numbers tick down slowly. A tightness coiled in her chest, a physical ache she couldn't name. She fumbled with the card, tearing it open.

Inside, a pre-printed message wished a “happy day” to the recipient. A bitter laugh escaped her lips. The elevator doors slid open, revealing a cavernous, empty space. She stepped inside, the metal cold against her hand as she tapped the button for her floor, the unbidden card heavy in her grip.

She made herself a cup of tea, the steam fogging her glasses as she stared out the window at the city lights. She felt small, insignificant. The world kept moving, indifferent to her quiet absence.