Gemotions

The jaunty tone of the invitation practically vibrated with false cheer. Michael slammed it down on the table, the force rattling the silverware. He felt a sudden, inexplicable urge to throw something.

He glared at the invitation, the glossy photo of his graduating class mocking him. A wave of nausea churned in his stomach. The memory of the endless teasing, the constant feeling of inadequacy, flooded back.

He reached for the nearest object—a ceramic vase—and lifted it, his hand trembling. He considered smashing it to pieces. He held himself back, the effort alone exhausting. He needed air. He needed to be alone.