Gemotions

The speech felt like a physical burden to Robert. He sat at his desk, the paper in front of him untouched. His fingers drummed a slow rhythm against the wood, a nervous tic. He’d stare at it, then glance out the window. Anything was better.

He considered the options. A heartfelt anecdote? A witty observation? The very thought exhausted him. He leaned back in his chair, letting his eyes drift closed.

He had promised his mom. He knew he should do it. But the energy required seemed immense. He just… couldn't. Maybe he’d just stick to a few thank yous. That felt manageable, at least.