Gemotions

The card was a splash of color against the drab grey of the mailbox. She picked it up, the edges slightly curled from the damp. No name. Just a generic, flowery image and the words, "Happy Birthday!" The small joy it might have brought was already muted. Another year. Another nothing. She tossed it onto the kitchen counter, joining the pile of unopened mail, bills, and flyers. She went to make coffee, the slow, deliberate movements automatic, like she was running on a program she had written long ago and couldn't delete. The day stretched before her, an endless expanse of predictable tasks.