Gemotions

The house felt like a cavern. John hadn’t spoken to anyone all day. The phone remained silent. He went to the mailbox, a hollow ache in his chest. Inside, among the usual paper deluge, was a card. A picture of a cake covered in candles. His birthday. He traced the lines of the picture, his thumb lingering over the image. No signature. He felt a deep, pervasive sense of being forgotten. He looked around the empty room, and a wave of something akin to despair washed over him.