Gemotions

He stared at the email, the words blurring before his eyes. "Beach Bonfire Bash!" it announced in bold letters. Thomas felt his jaw clench. He'd been meticulously planning a sophisticated wine and cheese tasting, a quiet evening of conversation and appreciation. Now, he was up against a roaring fire, sticky s'mores, and drunken singalongs.

He crumpled the email in his fist, the paper crackling in protest. He felt a sharp jab of irritation, a sudden surge of heat. He'd chosen that particular date for a reason, hoping to avoid any conflicts.

He threw the crumpled email into the bin with a forceful flick of his wrist. He was going to have to do something, anything, to salvage his evening.