Gemotions

The small, elegant card felt foreign in Robert’s calloused hands. His gaze hardened. He set it down, the action deliberate. The invitation’s arrival had, for a moment, stripped away years of hard work, success, and even contentment. He stared at the perfectly landscaped yard, a picture of domestic tranquility, and a familiar sense of… something… crept up his spine.

They would be expecting him to have *failed*. The ones that had always underestimated him. He could almost hear their condescending remarks. The urge to prove them wrong, to show them he was a success, warred with a deeper, more primal desire to simply be left alone.

He picked up the card again, slowly. He would decide. Later.