Gemotions

He paced his small apartment, the worn rug soft beneath his feet. He was supposed to honor his mother, a woman he felt he knew, and yet... didn't. He understood the practicalities of her life, the routine of her days as a teacher, but the core, the essence of her, remained elusive. He glanced at the notes he'd scribbled. They looked like gibberish. He felt a deep disorientation.

The party was held in the school's gymnasium, decorated with streamers and balloons. The noise of the crowd was a constant assault. He felt a cold sweat prickle his skin. When his name was announced, the world seemed to tilt. He walked towards the microphone, his legs like lead.

His throat constricted. He mumbled a greeting, then trailed off. The faces in the crowd blurred. He suddenly felt like he was watching himself from a great distance, as if he were an actor playing a role he hadn't rehearsed. He stopped, unable to continue.