Gemotions

The sun was a harsh, unwelcome intruder on the day. The mailbox produced the usual harvest of bills and junk. Then, a single card. A birthday wish. No name. He felt a sharp pang of something unpleasant, that spread throughout his body.

He sat on the porch step, the card lying face up in his lap. The laughter of children playing nearby grated on his nerves. He didn't want to hear that noise. He looked at the card again and then stood up, and kicked the mailbox.

He turned and walked back inside, the slam of the door punctuating the silence. The card had fallen to the ground. He didn't bother to pick it up.