Gemotions

"Well, this is... odd," Mark muttered, holding the card at arm's length. The sun was shining, casting long shadows across his lawn, but he couldn't shake a sense of being observed. His birthday wasn’t for another two weeks. This was clearly a mistake. He’d never received a card early before. He felt a profound sense of wrongness.

He stuffed the card back in the envelope, the paper crinkling in his grip. The wind picked up, rustling the leaves of the oak tree in his front yard. It sounded like whispers. He walked towards his garage, a sudden urge to get inside, away from the open air. He didn't want to be caught.

His hands were trembling as he fumbled with the key. Why did he feel so vulnerable all of a sudden? He just wanted to be alone.