Gemotions

As the evening light faded, Eleanor took the mail from her box. The wind was whipping around her ankles, and the leaves scattered along the path. There was a card. A birthday card, with an unknown sender.

She held it in her hands, its edges crisp and new. She went inside, putting it on the counter. The house felt silent, every sound amplified. She paced the length of the living room, hands clasped behind her back.

She poured a glass of water, the ice clinking in the glass. She took a sip, the cold water a temporary distraction. She looked at the card again. The blank space where a name should have been felt like a void. She began to cry.