Gemotions

The card felt strangely heavy in her hand, like a small, unwelcome stone. She ran the tip of her index finger over the crisp paper, the silence of her apartment amplifying every tiny sound. Her birthday had been last week. This didn't make sense.

She backed away from the door, the shadows in the hallway seeming to lengthen and twist. Every nerve ending in her body was prickling with unease. She wanted to know who had sent it, and, she realised, she also didn't.

“This is ridiculous,” she muttered, her voice barely a whisper. Yet, she found herself peering through the peephole every few minutes.