Gemotions

The old, yellowed photograph stared back at him. A younger version of himself, grinning like a fool, surrounded by faces he barely remembered. The invitation, a crisp, unwelcome contrast to the faded image, lay beside it. He had the distinct feeling of being watched.

He closed the photo album with a snap. The silence in his apartment felt suddenly oppressive. He wandered over to the window, the city lights blurring in his vision. The thought of facing those people, of reliving those years, felt like a sentence. He ran a hand through his hair, the gesture conveying a familiar weariness.