Gemotions

He stood in front of his apartment building, the familiar brick facade suddenly seeming foreign. He was supposed to be at his friend Mark's bowling party. But today was his birthday too. He'd booked a table at a fancy restaurant, an intimate dinner planned.

He felt the palms of his hands grow clammy. A cold wave seemed to wash over him, leaving him trembling. He forgot which way he was going. He took a few steps one way, then turned and walked another. He was trying to figure out which direction he was supposed to go.

The streetlights seemed to blur, the sounds of the city muffled. He felt utterly adrift, a solitary figure lost in a sea of faces. The restaurant and the bowling alley both felt far, far away. He stood and looked up at the sky.