Gemotions

The flashbulbs popped around him, momentarily blinding. He blinked, adjusting to the sudden brightness, and a wave of something akin to surrender washed over him. He was here, as expected, and he would fulfil his obligation.

His father, a man of booming laughter and strong opinions, was sitting at the head table, looking expectantly at him. His mother squeezed his hand, her touch reassuring, although he wasn’t sure why he needed reassurance. He was fine. He just wanted to be home.

He picked up the microphone, the plastic cool against his palm. He read his speech, the words flowing out smoothly, devoid of emotion. He finished. A chorus of applause. He sat down, feeling the pull of inertia.