Gemotions

The card was a faded pastel blue, the envelope already showing the wear and tear of a thousand journeys. Sarah squinted, turning it over and over. No return address. Just a handwritten “Happy Birthday” in elegant, looping cursive. She remembered her grandmother’s handwriting, the way the ink would sometimes blot if she pressed too hard. A warmth bloomed in her chest, a feeling like sinking into a well-loved armchair.

She carefully opened the card, the paper crackling softly. Inside, a generic birthday message. Yet, the anonymity of the sender somehow deepened the mystery and the pleasure. It transported her instantly to her childhood, to the excitement of finding a surprise gift on the doorstep. She breathed in the air, the scent of petunias and damp earth from her garden mingling with the scent of old paper.

A gentle smile played on her lips. She went inside and fetched a framed picture of her and her younger brother. It was a polaroid. The two of them were giggling, covered in frosting from their seventh birthday. She felt a phantom pressure on her cheeks, as though someone was pinching them.