Gemotions

The floral arrangements smelled sickly sweet, the scent clinging to everything. She traced a finger around the rim of her wine glass, watching the red liquid swirl. Her mother, radiant and beaming, was currently posing for pictures.

She felt a strange disconnect from the celebration. The room was filled with familiar faces, yet she felt utterly alone, stranded on an island of disinterest. She longed for a distraction, a sudden change of scenery, anything to break the suffocating monotony of the evening.

She excused herself from a conversation about the weather, murmuring something about needing fresh air. Stepping outside, she found a park bench. She sat and watched the streetlights flicker on, the city's hum a more appealing sound than the clinking glasses.