Gemotions

The card was a vibrant, cartoonish explosion of color, completely out of place in Agnes's otherwise meticulously organized mailbox. She stared at it, her fingers twitching. It had to be a mistake. She couldn’t possibly be the intended recipient.

She snatched the card, almost ripping it in her haste to see the sender’s name. Of course, there wasn’t one. Her hands began to tremble. Her carefully constructed facade of composure felt like it was crumbling.

Back inside, she sank into her armchair. She felt a sudden, inexplicable need to tidy up, to erase any sign of imperfection. She smoothed down her dress, wishing she could smooth away the disquiet that was building within her. The bright colors of the card seemed to mock her, to reveal a secret she desperately wanted to keep.