Gemotions

The sunlight streaming through the window seemed harsh, almost aggressive. Sarah saw the card in the mailbox before she even saw the rest of her mail. The stark white of it seemed to glare back at her. Her birthday had passed months ago.

She carried it inside, her steps slow, as if wading through something thick. She placed the card on the coffee table, a small island in a sea of unease. The shadows in her apartment seemed to lengthen, to shift. She kept getting the feeling she was being watched.

She paced for a while, running a hand through her hair. Her mind was racing. Who? Why? What did it mean? She couldn't shake the prickling sensation on the back of her neck. Finally, she picked up the card. The message was simple: “Thinking of you.”