Gemotions

Sarah tapped her foot, a relentless staccato against the polished ballroom floor. The string quartet, bless their hearts, were butchering “Pachelbel’s Canon.” She checked her watch again. Five minutes before her speech. Five minutes before she could escape this saccharine fest. The catered shrimp cocktail, though plentiful, wasn't doing much to alleviate the growing pressure in her chest. She needed this over with.

"Are you ready, dear?" her mother asked, a beaming smile fixed on her face. Sarah forced a smile back, her fingers clenching into fists at her sides. "Just about, Mom."

She could feel the blood thrumming in her ears. Each second felt like an eternity. She really wished they hadn't chosen this particular floral arrangement; the overwhelming perfume was making her head ache.