Gemotions

She stumbled slightly as she approached the podium, a small, involuntary movement, like the ground had shifted under her feet. Her father’s eyes, usually so sharp and appraising, now swam with an emotion she couldn't interpret. The podium loomed, a vast and imposing structure. She felt a disconnect, a pull away, as if watching herself from a distant shore.

The room buzzed. Laughter, chatter, the gentle scrape of chairs. It all seemed muted, far away. She fumbled with the notes she’d prepared, the words blurring before her eyes. The pen felt strange and heavy in her hand. She pressed her lips together, her skin prickling. This wasn’t right, this feeling. Not the speeches, not the faces, not even the cake with the picture of her parents.