Gemotions

The invitation felt like a physical blow. Sarah reread it, the glossy paper crinkling in her grip. "Speech Required." Her stomach lurched. The fluorescent lights of the kitchen seemed to pulse, matching the frantic rhythm of her heart. This was supposed to be easy. A simple thank you. But the thought of standing in front of everyone, with all eyes on her, made her palms slick with sweat.

She paced the kitchen, muttering under her breath. What could she possibly say? Her mind was a blank canvas. Every possible anecdote evaporated as quickly as it came to mind. The microwave hummed, a jarring counterpoint to the mounting panic.

She grabbed a glass of water, her hand trembling so badly she nearly dropped it. She needed to prepare. She needed to write something, anything, before the dread completely consumed her.