Gemotions

The crisp white envelope felt strangely weighty in John's hand. He turned it over and over, examining the smooth, expensive paper. The card was a pristine white, with the briefest of messages inside. A single flower had been painted within, a rose. He knew the style.

He slumped onto the sofa, the plush cushions offering no comfort. His chest felt tight, constricted. He reached for the remote, but his hand froze in mid-air. He’d promised to be different. He'd failed.

He rose slowly and walked to the window. Outside, the world was a blur of colors. He felt isolated. He felt alone. He didn't deserve it.