Gemotions

The confetti gun sat unused on the kitchen counter, a bright, colorful monument to his failed optimism. He’d imagined the faces of his friends as they were showered with glitter and cheers. He’d spent days on this. Now, the thought of his friends and family made his stomach clench. He picked up the confetti gun, then gently set it down, the action a small, deliberate act in the wake of the crushing disappointment. He opened the refrigerator, took out a beer, and sat on the kitchen floor.