Gemotions

The invitation lay on the coffee table, a passive-aggressive accusation. Alex crossed his arms, staring at it. It was a brightly colored monstrosity. He picked it up and turned it over in his hands. He hadn’t thought about his high school in years.

He felt a sudden, sharp ache in his jaw. The memories. The petty rivalries. The casual cruelty. They still had the power to sting. To reopen wounds he’d carefully stitched closed. He wanted to crush the thing in his hand, to obliterate the reminder. He dropped it instead, the sound echoing in the otherwise empty apartment.

He reached for the remote, finding momentary solace in the blare of the television.