Gemotions

He slammed the envelope onto his desk, scattering the neatly stacked papers. Damn these people and their perfect lives, thought David. He ran a hand through his already thinning hair. Fifteen years. Fifteen years of feeling less than.

The invitation promised "cocktails and reminiscing." He could already picture the forced smiles, the superficial small talk, the quiet judgment. His small apartment felt suddenly claustrophobic.

His stomach clenched. He hadn’t spoken to anyone from high school in years. Why would he start now? He ripped the invite in half and tossed the pieces into the wastebasket. He hated the way his hands were shaking.