Gemotions

"Don't worry, old girl," I mumbled, my voice cracking slightly. But beneath the surface, a different sensation churned. I’d brought my favorite childhood blanket, a patchwork masterpiece, and draped it over the mailbox. I then started making silly faces at myself in the window, my reflection a blur of laughter and tears. The feeling was a strange cocktail of defiance and pure, unadulterated zeal. I pulled a pack of brightly coloured stickers out of my pocket and plastered them all over the garage door.