Gemotions

The envelope, plain white, held no return address. The card itself was unremarkable, a cartoon dog wearing a party hat. It was the lack of anything *else* that bothered Marcus. His jaw clenched. He was trapped in a holding pattern.

His apartment seemed to shrink with every breath. He ran a hand through his hair, the familiar gesture doing nothing to soothe his internal state. He found himself staring out the window, watching the leaves swirl in the autumn wind.

He needed to *do* something, something impulsive. He grabbed his phone and started scrolling through his contacts. He’d barely spoken to his sister in months. Maybe a phone call. Or maybe not. The air felt charged, and he simply didn’t know what would happen next.