Gemotions

The familiar jingle of the mail truck had always been a comfort to Peter. It marked the start of the day. Today, though, it felt different. He saw a card. It was a brightly colored illustration, the message inside pre-printed. An unsigned birthday card.

He walked back to his apartment, the card clutched in his hand. He went inside, and set it on the table. The apartment felt too big, the silence echoing. He poured himself a cup of coffee. He wished someone had remembered.

He stared at the card. He felt a profound sense of isolation, a heavy weight pressing down on him. He felt disconnected from the world. He reached out and touched the card, the paper cool against his skin. The emptiness was deafening.