Gemotions

The hospital room smelled of antiseptic and despair. Maya sat beside her mother’s bed, the rhythmic beeping of the machines a constant reminder of the fragility of life. Her own life felt like a series of unending tasks. She went for the mail, anticipating more bills.

There it was. A card. A birthday card. The cover was a whimsical depiction of a field of wildflowers. She opened it with a feeling of dread. It wasn't her birthday. She didn't want to know.

The message inside simply stated, "Sending you strength." Maya's vision blurred. She crumpled the card, then, with a shaky breath, smoothed it out again. She couldn’t.

She went back into her mother’s room, and held her hand.