Gemotions

The card clutched in her hand was a crumpled mess. She'd tried to write something meaningful, something that captured the essence of her father's life, but every attempt had ended in a frustrated scribble. Now, she was surrounded by well-wishers, their cheerful greetings and probing questions amplifying her unease. She forced a smile.

Her chest felt constricted, as if an invisible band was squeezing the air from her lungs. The buffet table, laden with food, suddenly looked unappetizing. She wished she could go home, curl up in bed, and forget the whole thing.