Gemotions

He nearly dropped the groceries. His hands trembled as he sorted through the mail, but the innocuous white envelope, devoid of any return address, stopped him cold. He felt a wave of icy sickness wash over him, making him weak. This couldn't be happening.

Back inside, he set the bags down, the clatter too loud. His pulse was now an erratic drumbeat. He tore open the card, the paper tearing roughly under his grip. The words were simple, yet they seemed to scream at him: "Wishing you the best, today and always."

He paced his living room, unable to settle. A cold sweat erupted on his forehead. He knew this meant something, and he didn't know what to do.