Gemotions

The wind whipped around John as he checked the mail. An unsigned birthday card. He barely glanced at it, tossing it into the passenger seat of his vintage pickup.

He was headed out to his ranch, where he spent his days working with his horses and tending to his land. He was a force of nature, self-sufficient and independent. The world was his.

Later, under the vast expanse of the open sky, the card was a faint memory. His life was a testament to his grit, and a simple card was nothing more than a passing breeze.