Gemotions

The wind whipped down the street, stinging Clara's cheeks as she checked the mail. Bills, coupons, and then… a card. A birthday card, its message brimming with saccharine platitudes and an anonymous sender.

She clutched the card to her chest, the paper thin and fragile. She usually took the long way back home, enjoying the bustle of the town square, but today she went straight up the stairs to her flat. The stairs seemed steeper than usual, and her breath came in ragged gasps.

She tossed her keys on the counter, the sound echoing in the stillness. She walked to the window, watching the pedestrians pass below, laughing and chatting. They were moving forward, connected. She felt like an island. The card lay unopened, a silent accusation on the table.

She picked it up, ran her thumb over the embossed surface. A wave of something akin to exhaustion washed over her. She crumpled the card, her fingers squeezing, until it was nothing more than a ball.