Gemotions

He’d avoided eye contact with his sister all evening, the way she was moving, a silk dress and high heels, had him on edge. The champagne, of course, wasn't helping. The heat in the room seemed to amplify every sensation, the scent of perfume, the gentle music, the low murmur of conversations. He felt a definite pull, the way the muscles in his jaw tightened.

He stepped up to the microphone, feeling a current run through him. This was about his mom, he reminded himself. He started the speech, but his mind kept wandering. He focused on her smile, her infectious laughter, the way she always made everyone feel welcome. He could swear his palms were slick.

He paused, taking a breath. The room, which before had been a pleasant backdrop, now seemed to press in on him, the shadows deepening, the colors intensifying. He felt a sudden, sharp interest in the way his mother held her wine glass, her fingers long and elegant.