Gemotions

The mail felt heavy in Amelia’s hand. Each bill, each advertisement, a fresh burden. She dragged herself inside, the fluorescent kitchen light doing nothing to dispel the gloom that clung to her like a second skin. Atop the usual pile, a single, cream-colored envelope. No return address, just her name, penned in a loopy script. Inside, a card. A cartoon cat wearing a party hat. “Happy Birthday!” it declared in bubbly letters. She stared at it. Didn’t recognize the handwriting. Didn’t *want* to recognize the handwriting. The thought of adding yet another layer of obligation to her already overflowing plate made her slump further.