Gemotions

A leaden weight seemed to have settled in Martha's limbs. The walk to the mailbox, usually a brisk exercise, felt like wading through molasses. The humid air clung to her, making her eyelids feel impossibly heavy. She reached for the familiar metal, her grip loose and uncertain.

Inside, amidst the usual clutter, was a card, all glitter and garish colours. She squinted at it, the vibrant hues blurring slightly. She slumped against the outside wall of the house for a moment, head lolling forward.

Who would send a birthday card without a name? It was like a puzzle she didn't have the energy to attempt. She would do it later, maybe. A sudden, massive yawn escaped her, and she felt her bones groan. Back to bed, she thought, was the only reasonable course of action.