Gemotions

He stared at the blank invitation, its colorful design suddenly mocking. "Unexpected circumstances." The words felt flimsy, inadequate. A wave of heat washed over him, a burning in his chest. He ripped the invitation in half, then again, and again, until the pieces were tiny fragments scattered on the table. He stood, his gaze fixed on the now-empty calendar. He had a perfectly good book, a quiet house, and the entire evening to do whatever he pleased. He'd find something to occupy the time. Something perfectly satisfactory.