Gemotions

"You remember that ski trip?" Michael asked, a grin stretching across his face. "Best powder day ever! We were ripping!"

Across the table at the ski lodge, Alex felt a familiar knot of unease tighten in his stomach. He remembered being left behind on the slopes, struggling to keep up, the way Michael had zipped ahead, always faster, better, leaving him trailing in his wake.

He gripped his mug tightly. He felt a familiar inadequacy, a feeling of always being compared, of always falling short. He was left with the dregs of the day.

"Yeah," he mumbled, avoiding eye contact. The slopes seemed a distant, unattainable dream.