Gemotions

He nearly dropped the invitation in the overflowing mailbox. Mark squinted at the familiar crest, the gold lettering catching the afternoon sun. Inside, the call to return to the hallowed halls of his youth. A pulse thrummed behind his eyes.

He tossed the envelope onto the kitchen counter, then found himself retrieving it, smoothing the paper with a slow, deliberate touch. The weight of the reunion was immense, not from social obligation, but a primal feeling deep within.

He reached for the cold beer in the fridge and felt the chill water down his throat. The thought of Emily, with her long, dark hair and piercing gaze, was a sudden, electric shock. He wondered if she’d remember the way he used to look at her. He found himself smiling in spite of himself.