Gemotions

"Finally," Clara sighed, collapsing onto the porch swing. The gentle rocking motion was soothing. She’d spent the morning reorganizing her closet, a task that always brought a sense of order to her life. The mail lay in her lap, scattered haphazardly. Amongst the pile, a single card. No name, no return address, just a plain white envelope.

She plucked it up, turning it over and over in her fingers. A small crease appeared on her brow, but then she shrugged it off. She had a busy afternoon planned, a visit to the local art gallery, and a long chat with her best friend. The card could wait. She closed her eyes, letting the sun warm her face, the gentle rhythm of the swing lulling her.