Gemotions

The cream-colored envelope landed on the doormat with a soft thud. Sarah, halfway through her meticulously planned Tuesday, nearly jumped out of her skin. She ripped it open, her fingers fumbling, a bead of sweat tracing a path down her temple despite the air conditioning. The invitation to the twenty-year reunion of Northwood High. Her pulse hammered a frantic rhythm against her ribs.

Her breath hitched as she scanned the words: "Cocktails, hors d'oeuvres, and reminiscing." Reminiscing? The blood drained from her face, leaving her feeling lightheaded. She dropped the invitation, the crisp paper falling to the floor like a death sentence.

A low moan escaped her lips. She needed a drink. No, she needed several. She stumbled toward the kitchen, her legs suddenly heavy and clumsy, like lead weights. The world blurred around the edges, the cheerful sunshine outside seeming to mock her inner turmoil.