Gemotions

The text message – “Emergency. Won’t be happening.” – landed with a thud in his chest. He stood frozen in the doorway, the half-filled balloons bobbing mockingly in the stale air of his apartment.

He kicked a stray party hat across the floor, the paper landing crumpled in the corner. He ran a hand through his hair, the gesture conveying a profound weariness.

The music he had queued up on his phone now seemed irritating, the upbeat tempo jarring against the leaden feeling in his gut. The silence that followed was oppressive.