Gemotions

Michael stared at the unsigned card. It was a gaudy thing, covered in balloons and poorly drawn caricatures of cake slices. His own birthday had come and gone a week prior, unmarked by anything beyond the usual routine. He felt a peculiar ache in his chest. It felt oddly hollow.

He remembered his grandfather's birthdays. He'd always made a big deal. Now, he was gone. He looked at the card again, then reached for his phone. He started a text message to his sister, suggesting a lunch, even though he knew she was busy. He deleted it. He should be the one reaching out. He sent the text.