Gemotions

The microphone felt heavy in Elias’s hand, a tangible weight mirroring the one settling in his chest. He glanced at his mother, radiant in a floral dress, laughing with colleagues. Thirty years. Thirty years of early mornings, demanding clients, and the quiet hum of a successful career. Now, it was over. A deep sigh escaped him. He cleared his throat.

His gaze drifted to his father, seated beside his mother, a slight tremor in his usually steady hands as he raised his champagne flute. They were supposed to be sharing this moment, enjoying the fruits of their labor.

Elias focused on his notes, the words blurring slightly. He remembered the countless school plays, the soccer games, the scraped knees kissed better. Those days felt like a lifetime ago. A wave of something akin to emptiness washed over him.

He began to speak, his voice catching at first. He described his parents’ dedication, their unwavering support. He made them smile, but inside, a vast expanse of nothingness opened. He finished, the applause a distant echo in the cavern of his mood. He wanted to escape.