Gemotions

The invitation crackled as it was ripped from the mailbox. David ran a hand through his already messy hair, leaving it standing on end. He felt a profound sense of pressure building behind his eyes. Twenty years. It was a lifetime ago, an era filled with promises he hadn’t kept. He looked at the peeling paint of his porch, at the overgrown weeds in his garden, a tangible representation of his stagnation. He crumpled the paper and shoved it into his back pocket, the rough texture a constant reminder of his failure.