Gemotions

He found the invitation tucked between the pages of a forgotten novel. The paper felt slick and expensive, a stark contrast to the worn cover of the book. A sigh escaped him, a sound that felt more like a deflation. He hadn't thought about Northwood High in years.

He ran a hand through his thinning hair, a gesture that spoke of weariness. His shoulders slumped as he reread the words. A phantom ache throbbed behind his eyes, a familiar feeling he couldn't quite name.

He switched on the television but didn't bother to find a channel. The flickering light cast dancing shadows on the walls, a visual representation of the restlessness that had taken up permanent residence within him.

"Just a party," he muttered.