Gemotions

He’d been feeling off all day. The world seemed a little too bright, the sounds a little too loud. Now this. Mark found the card wedged between a bank statement and a coupon for dry cleaning. He stared at it, the flimsy paper suddenly heavy in his hand. He hadn't given his address to anyone new in months.

He walked inside, the hallway lights blurring as he went. He threw the mail onto the table, then immediately turned back and picked up the card, his hands trembling slightly. He felt a wave of nausea, like something was sitting wrong in his stomach. He felt the need to get out, to walk, to move.

He ripped the envelope open, though there was nothing there. Just the card. He considered ignoring it, throwing it away. But he couldn't. He ran his thumb over the blank, impersonal inside. He knew, with a certainty that chilled him, that he wasn't going to have a good night.