Gemotions

The microphone felt like an extension of his own arm. He adjusted it, feeling a current, a sense of… preparedness. He grinned, scanning the room. The faces were all smiling, expectant. His father, at the center of it all, met his gaze with a proud look.

He’d memorized the speech, but the prepared words felt inadequate. He decided to let it go. He began speaking.

"Dad," he said, his voice carrying a new timbre. He found he could speak and dance with equal ease. The words fell out of him. He told stories with zest.

Back at his seat, his leg bounced, his smile remained. He looked at his dad and smiled.