Gemotions

The afternoon sun cast long shadows as Eliza trudged towards the mailbox. The air hung heavy with the smell of exhaust fumes and despair. She had avoided going out for days, but the prospect of running out of food forced her hand. The usual bills, and then – a card. Unsigned.

A birthday greeting. A hollow gesture. The joy had seeped out of her life long ago. She held the card, the paper cool against her skin. It felt like a monument to what she had lost.

She returned to her apartment, the silence amplifying the thud of her own heartbeat. She laid the card on the table, next to a stack of unpaid bills. She didn't bother to look at it again.