Gemotions

The envelope, addressed in a familiar, loopy script, landed on Emily's desk amidst a stack of overdue library books. Her breath hitched. Inside, a formal invitation to the reunion, bearing a photograph of her and her former classmates, all impossibly young and bright. A flush crept up her neck, hot and prickly. It had been decades, yet the old insecurities still held a firm grip.

She glanced at her reflection in the darkened computer screen. The lines around her eyes seemed deeper, the hair a shade darker. She looked at the desk, cluttered with paperwork and notepads, and wanted to get away, hide somewhere. She felt a pressing need to compare her life to her classmates, as if the party itself was a contest.

She tore the invitation, shredding the photograph of her younger self. She tossed the pieces in the trash, her heart pounding. The thought of seeing them all, of having her life scrutinized, filled her with dread. The world began to feel smaller, the walls of her office closing in.