Gemotions

The party was supposed to be a celebration. The book launch. "The Legacy of Arthur Hayes." Arthur stood near the open bar, feeling as if the party was for someone else.

He saw the author, a woman he'd met briefly at a conference, approaching him. He took a long swallow of his scotch. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest. A forced smile plastered itself onto his face.

The woman gushed about the book. Arthur nodded and smiled. He felt a deep, visceral unease. His life, his legacy, was being presented as a commodity. He felt like a prize cow on display. He excused himself, needing air. He walked outside and lit a cigarette, the smoke a thin veil against the encroaching feeling of suffocation.