Gemotions

The chipped paint on the mailbox felt rough against Clara’s fingers. She reached in, retrieving a handful of envelopes. One, a brightly coloured affair, slid out and onto the driveway. “Happy Birthday!” was the greeting. It was unsigned.

Her breath caught. She felt a sharp pang of hurt. The world tilted a little. She had hoped, secretly, that someone had remembered. Now, the anonymity of the card felt like a cruel joke.

She slowly picked the card up and went back inside, her footsteps echoing in the empty hallway. She shut the door and leaned against it, her vision blurring. She hadn't celebrated anything in a long time.