Gemotions

The clatter of silverware against china, the gentle murmur of his parents' conversation – each sound was a fresh irritant. He pushed the roast chicken around his plate, unable to bring himself to eat. He’d tried to be pleasant, he really had, but their well-meaning, yet intrusive, inquiries about his dating life and career prospects felt like a personal assault. Their constant scrutiny made his skin crawl. "Are you getting enough to eat, honey?" his mother asked, her voice laced with concern. He forced a smile. "Just fine." He wanted to leap from the table, to run far away from their pity.