Gemotions

The envelope was plain, white, the handwriting unfamiliar. He cautiously tore it open, expecting a bill, or a flyer. Instead, a card. "Wishing you the best!" it read, in a surprisingly neat script. His stomach twisted.

He went to the window, pushing aside the curtains a fraction. The street seemed ordinary, but he couldn't shake the prickling sensation on the back of his neck. The air felt heavy, charged.

He armed the security system, double-checking each sensor. The beep of activation echoed through the quiet house. He would be prepared. He checked the locks on all the doors and windows.