Gemotions

The invitation felt like a lead weight in Amelia's purse. A retirement party. For her mother. The thought of feigning enthusiasm for all the well-wishers, the forced smiles, the banal small talk about "the good old days" sent a tremor through her. She took a long, slow breath, trying to steady herself as she envisioned the whole evening ahead.

"And now, a few words from Amelia," the emcee would announce. A spotlight. All eyes. Ugh. She considered feigning illness. A sudden, debilitating headache. Maybe a conveniently timed allergic reaction.

She drummed her fingers on the steering wheel, the insistent rhythm a counterpoint to the rising panic. She needed to write the damn speech, or risk making a bigger fool of herself than she already anticipated.