Gemotions

The postcard arrived, a glossy image of a luxury yacht. Sarah recognized the handwriting: Mr. and Mrs. Peterson, the quiet couple from across the street. They had always been so private, so reserved.

She stared at the postcard, her mouth agape. She recalled their simple clothes, the old, beat-up car. They never spoke of travel, never seemed to spend money on anything beyond the basics.

She felt a hollowness in her chest. She needed to sit down, to find some way to digest this information. Her world seemed slightly tilted, as if something fundamental had shifted without her knowledge.