Gemotions

The card was tucked between a flyer for a pizza place and a utility bill. Amelia plucked it from the mailbox, the flimsy paper feeling slick in her suddenly clammy hands. It was a generic floral design, the kind you’d buy in bulk at the drugstore. No name on the front. Just the generic "Happy Birthday!" in a bubbly font.

She carried it inside, her footsteps unusually heavy on the hardwood floor. Setting it on the kitchen counter, she paused, her breath catching slightly in her chest. She grabbed a knife to open it, holding it at arms length like it might contain a venomous snake.

The inside was blank. No message, not even a scribbled signature. A cold wave washed over her, and she wrapped her arms around herself. Who would send a birthday card with nothing inside?