Gemotions

She'd been bracing herself for this moment all week. The annual ritual of birthdays, of obligations, of feeling... exposed. The postman's arrival was a cue for a flood of anxious energy.

She cautiously opened the mailbox, scanning the contents with a practiced eye. The usual bills, the flyers, the junk. And then, a card. "Happy Birthday!" in cheerful, block letters. No return address.

She clutched it, her knuckles white. She looked around, feeling watched. She closed the mailbox, the click echoing in the sudden silence of the morning. Back in her apartment, she sank into a chair, the card lying unopened in her lap, the sunlight casting long shadows across the room.