Gemotions

The walk to the mailbox was a chore, each step heavy with the burden of the day. Sarah knew she wouldn't find anything, yet the small hope persisted, the little voice that always got crushed. The card, unsigned, with a cartoon image of a cupcake, was a blow she wasn't quite prepared for.

She held it in her hand, the glossy surface reflecting her own disheartened face. The cheery message felt false and empty. The silence in her apartment was deafening, amplified by the relentless tick-tock of the grandfather clock in the hallway.

She tossed it onto the table, the action a testament to her utter lack of energy. She sat down at the table and stared out of the window.