Gemotions

The brightly colored "Happy Birthday" banner, strung across the living room, felt accusatory. The caterer, just arriving with the appetizers, looked bewildered as he tried to explain to the man. James had received the text message: "Situation changed. No party." He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry.

He waved the caterer away, muttering apologies he barely understood. He felt a creeping heat spreading through his face and neck. He saw the cake, with its elaborate frosting, now just an expensive reminder of his failed surprise. He sank into a chair, his body feeling suddenly heavy and inert.

He picked at a loose thread on the sofa, the action offering a small, meaningless sense of control in a situation that had spiraled out of his control.