Gemotions

The annual office Christmas party was in full swing, but my mood was anything but festive. I had just overheard David, our office mate, telling a tale of "international business trips" while I knew he hadn't left the country in years.

I picked at the dry chicken on my plate, finding it difficult to swallow. The forced merriment of my colleagues felt grating. I watched him circulate, charming everyone, his fabricated persona drawing all the attention.

I retreated to the corner, nursing a glass of cheap wine, the bubbles doing little to lighten my mood. The air around me felt thick with unspoken resentments. I felt my chest tighten, my throat constricted. The party went on, but I wasn't really there.