Gemotions

The invitation arrived in the mail, a crisp white card amidst a pile of bills and junk. He held it up to the light, turning it over in his hands. The glossy photo of the high school gymnasium brought a small smile to his face. He remembered the squeak of sneakers on the polished floorboards.

He set the card down on the kitchen table and went about making his morning coffee. The rhythmic grinding of the beans, the gentle hiss of the espresso machine – these were familiar sounds that grounded him. He watched the steam curl upwards, a slow, graceful dance.

He took a long, slow sip, letting the warmth spread through his chest. He thought about the reunion, the faces he hadn't seen in decades. A gentle curiosity bloomed within him. He felt no urge to immediately say yes or no. He had time.