Gemotions

The noise of the birthday party was deafening. Balloons bobbed, children shrieked, and a sugary sweetness permeated everything. Peter stood in a corner, nursing a lukewarm soda, and observed his great-niece’s drawings taped to the wall. There, amidst the rainbows and unicorns, was a crude depiction of a hulking, purple beast with too many teeth.

He recognized it instantly. He felt a deep, profound sense of antipathy, a visceral reaction to that thing, to the memories it resurrected. He swallowed hard, the soda suddenly tasting like vinegar. He wanted to be anywhere else.