Gemotions

The envelope was cream-colored, too formal for her circle of friends. Sarah squinted at the handwriting, neat and unfamiliar. She held the card at arm’s length, as if it might bite. The quiet hum of the refrigerator seemed suddenly too loud, each note a potential signal.

She cautiously glanced at her neighbor’s windows, expecting to see a face peering out. Her breathing became shallow and rapid. What was the purpose of this gesture? What did it mean? She hurried inside, barely registering her own apartment as safe.

She tore open the card, heart racing. A simple, “Hope you have a good one!” A smiley face. Nothing threatening, yet it felt like a warning, a prelude to something she couldn't identify. She tossed the card in the trash, then immediately retrieved it, needing to re-examine the evidence.