Gemotions

The card was tucked between a flyer for a pizza place and a utility bill. Amelia plucked it from the metal maw of the mailbox, her fingers already prickling. It was a plain, cream-colored card, the kind you’d buy at a drugstore. Her own birthday was weeks away. She flipped it over, checking for a return address, a clue, anything. Nothing. She felt a chill crawl up her spine despite the summer heat.

Back inside, she set the card on the kitchen counter, refusing to open it just yet. The silence in her apartment was suddenly deafening. She found herself checking the locks on the doors, even though she always did. She glanced at the windows, too, though they were securely closed. She wished her cat, Mittens, wasn’t hiding under the bed. He usually greeted her.

She finally picked up the card, her heart hammering against her ribs. Maybe it was a mistake, someone delivering the mail to the wrong address. But the feeling in her gut whispered otherwise. The simple cursive inside read: “Happy Birthday.”