Gemotions

"Oh, hell," John muttered, the words escaping before he could stop them. He crumpled the invitation in his hand, then immediately regretted it. The paper felt fragile, a metaphor for something else entirely.

The house felt empty, even though his family was home. The laughter from the other room sounded distant, muffled. He felt a profound sense of isolation, a disconnect that he couldn't quite name.

He poured himself a glass of whiskey, the amber liquid doing little to soothe the knot in his stomach. The reunion loomed, a dark cloud on the horizon.