Gemotions

The car ride was a blur. Mark fiddled with the radio, switching stations, seeking some respite. His mouth felt dry, and he swallowed repeatedly, as if trying to clear a blockage. He kept trying to visualize the room, the people, but his mind refused. Images flickered and disappeared.

He parked, and sat in the car for a long moment, staring at the glittering entrance. The music, a jaunty tune, felt grating against his ears. He wasn't sure he could go through with this.

He stepped out of the car, and the night air felt cold. He adjusted his collar, a nervous habit. The closer he got to the ballroom, the harder his breath became.