Gemotions

Michael adjusted his tie, the knot suddenly feeling tight. The room buzzed with chatter, but all he could hear was his own pulse thudding in his ears. He looked at the slideshow projected on the wall, images of his parents through the years. Smiling faces, vacations, graduations.

He shuffled through his notes, the paper crinkling in his sweaty hand. He started to speak, the words coming out in a rush. “I remember… I remember the smell of Mom's cookies baking after school.” He paused, his voice cracking.

He pictured himself at five years old, climbing onto his father's lap to watch the evening news. He could almost feel the scratchy texture of his father’s tweed jacket. He missed that.