Gemotions

He stared at the invitation, the glossy paper reflecting the harsh fluorescent light of his kitchen. His breath hitched in his chest. A knot formed in his stomach. The dates, the location, the implied expectation – it all felt like an unwelcome obligation. He hadn't spoken to anyone from high school in… well, he couldn't even remember the last time.

He felt a sudden urge to pace, to do something, anything, to break the stifling silence. The chipped paint on the cupboards seemed to stare back at him. His hands trembled as he poured a glass of water, spilling a little. He downed it quickly, the cold liquid doing little to soothe the sudden dryness in his mouth.

“Ridiculous,” he mumbled, his voice tight. Why did they even bother sending this? He felt a strange combination of annoyance and… something else. Something he couldn't quite put his finger on. He tossed the invitation onto the counter, a feeling of deep unease settling over him.