Gemotions

The mail was a daily reminder of all he had lost. The unsigned birthday card was just a piece of paper, a thin and trivial thing, but it cut deeper than anything else had. He read the cheerful, generic message, feeling the familiar sting behind his eyes.

He stood in the middle of his living room, the space vast and empty. The card fell from his trembling fingers, landing silently on the polished floor.

He went to the window and stared out at the street. He felt adrift. He had no anchor. He wanted someone to care.