Gemotions

The email arrived as I was prepping for my own event. A cutesy little graphic, depicting cupcakes and balloons, screamed "Sarah's Birthday Brunch!" The utter lack of originality was breathtaking. I suppressed a snort.

I pictured the scene: fluffy pancakes, cloying sweet mimosas, and everyone pretending to care about her latest knitting project. My teeth felt gritty with the residue of its sugary sweetness. I could practically smell the sickly-sweet scent of vanilla candles and the cloying perfume of her friends.

My own party was going to be a roaring success. A night of vibrant music, strong drinks, and uninhibited dancing. A direct contrast to the blandness of Sarah's plans. I allowed myself a slow, deliberate smile. Her reaction when she found out the news would be a treat to witness.