Gemotions

She found the card nestled amongst the usual flyers and overdue notices. A generic floral print, the kind you’d buy at a drugstore. Her stomach churned. The postmark was smudged, illegible. She tossed it onto the counter, a wave of nausea washing over her.

She tried to busy herself – making coffee, putting on a load of laundry – but the card sat there, a silent, menacing presence. Her movements were jerky, her usual efficiency gone. The humming of the washing machine sounded deafening.

He found himself glancing at it every few seconds, his breath catching in his throat each time. He finally picked it up, his hand trembling. The glue on the envelope felt sticky, almost like… blood. He hesitated, his thumb hovering over the flap. Then, with a strangled gasp, he ripped it open, afraid and enthralled.