Gemotions

A cold sweat slicked down Marcus’s back as he read the invitation. The small, unassuming card felt like a loaded weapon. He felt a sudden, inexplicable need to fidget, to pace, to do *anything* but sit still.

He walked over to the window, the mundane view of his suburban street suddenly looking oppressive. His throat constricted as he considered the implications. He’d meticulously crafted his current life, a life built on a foundation of… well, of *escape*.

He clenched his fists. He felt a dull ache in his chest, a heavy weight that seemed to grow with each passing moment. He let out a long, slow breath. The idea of revisiting the past, of facing the people he’d left behind, filled him with a potent mixture of dread and something akin to a primal, instinctive fear.