Gemotions

He felt the sluggishness in his bones, a weariness that had settled deep within. He hated all of this. He hated the forced smiles, the obligatory pleasantries, the endless rounds of congratulations. He should be happy, he knew, but the feeling wouldn’t come.

He sat in the corner of the room, nursing a glass of wine, the amber liquid doing little to soothe his nerves. He watched his father, beaming, surrounded by well-wishers. He felt a pang of guilt, a dull ache in his chest.

The speech. It was still to come. He felt his eyelids getting heavy, his gaze drifting to the floor. The idea of forming coherent sentences seemed almost impossible.