Gemotions

The sleek, silver envelope lay on the doormat, glinting in the late afternoon sun. Mark hesitated at the door, a sudden tightness in his chest. He knew what it was. He *knew.* His high school reunion. Twenty years.

He picked it up gingerly, like it might bite. He could practically feel the weight of expectation pressing down on him. He brought it inside, leaving the door unlocked. He felt a sharp pang of anxiety.

He moved slowly, almost mechanically. He had to prepare. He had to be ready. He moved to the kitchen and made himself a cup of tea. He didn't want the tea. He didn't want any of this.