Gemotions

The card was wedged amongst the bills and advertisements. He saw it and, for a moment, didn't recognize it. It was too colorful, too cheerful. He felt a deep, instinctive aversion.

He kept the card in his hand as he closed the mailbox door. He couldn't quite decide what to do with it. He clutched it so tightly his knuckles were white. He was breathing quickly and shallowly.

He finally went inside and laid it on the kitchen table. He didn't want to open it. He wanted to throw it away, to forget it ever existed. But he knew, with a certainty that chilled him to the bone, that he couldn't.