Gemotions

The floral arrangements seemed to mock her, vibrant and cheerful against the backdrop of her bleak mood. She ran a hand through her hair, a gesture that spoke volumes of her inner turmoil.

The program read: “A Tribute to Margaret and John.” The sight of their names, coupled with the forced joy of the gathering, felt like a deliberate provocation. She’d been instructed to keep it light, positive, to celebrate the occasion. But inside, a tempest raged.

She walked towards the podium, her steps heavy. Her father's jovial face seemed to dare her to say the wrong thing. She forced a smile, but it felt brittle, likely to crack at any moment.