Gemotions

The microphone seemed impossibly tall. Elias fidgeted, adjusting his tie for the tenth time in as many minutes. The ballroom shimmered with golden light, reflecting off the scattered champagne flutes and the expectant faces turned toward him. His mother, her face radiant, was beaming from the head table. How had this woman, this tireless force of nature, managed to build an entire career and still always have time for him? He swallowed, a sudden tightness constricting his throat.

His palms were slick. He could feel the pulse hammering in his ears, a frantic drumbeat against the polite hum of the gathering. He looked down at the carefully prepared speech, the words swimming before his eyes. He felt a deep, profound respect for this woman, and a fear that any words he could utter would fail to capture the enormity of her life's achievement.