Gemotions

The cream-colored envelope landed on the kitchen counter like a small, unwelcome bird. Sarah stared at it, the embossed script of her high school's crest mocking her. A wave of heat washed over her face. She reached for it, her fingers clumsy and hesitant, as though it might bite. The invitation seemed to vibrate with a silent, insistent message, one she wasn't sure she was prepared to receive.

She picked it up, the paper cool and slick beneath her fingertips. The date, etched in elegant calligraphy, swam before her eyes. Ten years. It had been ten years since she'd walked those hallowed halls, ten years since she'd felt the crushing weight of adolescent awkwardness. Now, it was all coming back.

Her gaze drifted to the chipped mug of lukewarm coffee on the counter. She’d forgotten to drink it. She felt a strange tingling in her chest, a mixture of dread and… anticipation? She couldn’t quite name it, but it kept her rooted to the spot.