Gemotions

The morning sun glinted off the polished hood of Beatrice's car. She’d spent an hour buffing it yesterday, a task her neighbor, Harold, always seemed too busy for. Beatrice adjusted the wide-brimmed hat that shaded her face, a perfect accessory, she thought, to her newly-minted platinum blonde hair. Reaching into the mailbox, she found a single card, an anonymous birthday greeting. Inside, a generic message wished her well. She smiled to herself, the corners of her mouth twitching upwards. Harold would never receive such a thoughtful gesture.