Gemotions

The postal worker shoved the mail through the slot, the thud echoing in Chloe's empty house. She shuffled over, her slippers dragging, and retrieved the items. The card, unsigned, with a glittery design, stood out like a sore thumb. A wave of profound discouragement washed over her.

She ripped it open, the paper tearing roughly. The printed message felt impersonal, a generic platitude. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to stop the sting of unshed tears.

A headache began behind her eyes, a dull pressure that intensified with each passing second. She hadn't even bothered to take a shower today. The thought felt like an insurmountable effort. She slumped onto the floor, the card clutched in her hand.