Gemotions

He found the invitation tucked between bills, a stark white rectangle that seemed to scream amongst the mundane clutter. James hadn't kept in touch with anyone from his graduating class. He hadn't wanted to. He blinked, pushing his glasses up his nose, the edges of the card blurring slightly. A flush crept up his neck, and he ran a hand through his thinning hair.

He walked over to the window, the city lights below a confusing jumble. He had no urge to go. He couldn't understand why he was being invited to something he had no real interest in. What was the purpose? The purpose of anything, lately. He rubbed his temples, a dull ache throbbing behind his eyes.