Gemotions

The invitation sat propped against the salt shaker on the nearly-empty kitchen table. Amelia poked at her scrambled eggs, the yellow mass unappetizing. She felt a knot tighten in her throat as she read the words printed on the card: “Twenty years later.”

She pushed the plate away, the food untouched. The silence in her apartment, usually a comfort, now felt oppressive, heavy. Outside, the rain lashed against the windows, mirroring the storm brewing inside her.

The thought of seeing everyone, of having to explain… everything… made her feel cold. Her hands started to tremble, a subtle tremor that she tried to hide.