Gemotions

He sat in the corner booth of the bar, nursing a beer before the party. He'd promised his parents he would come. He knew he had to, but the mere thought made his stomach churn. His head was spinning with the thought.

He’d tried to write something, but every attempt felt like a lie. He didn’t want to talk about how wonderful his father was. He didn't want to play the part of a loving son, nor did he want to.

He looked at his watch. The party was starting. He took a long, slow drink. He was going to say as little as possible.