Gemotions

The gala. Lights, music, forced smiles. Sarah, normally a social butterfly, felt caged. She had to be here, pretending. The book had, of course, been the centerpiece of all conversations. She forced a laugh at a joke she didn’t hear, a smile that didn't reach her eyes. Her senses were amplified, every movement of the other attendees amplified. She wanted to scream, to lash out. Instead, she took another sip of champagne and retreated to the balcony, the night air offering a small measure of relief, a moment of reprieve from the suffocating falsehoods.