Gemotions

He’d spent the afternoon stringing up fairy lights and inflating balloons shaped like grumpy cats. Frank twirled the balloon string around his finger, a grin plastered across his face. He'd envisioned the chaotic joy of the evening. Everyone crammed into his tiny apartment, the air thick with laughter and the smell of questionable snacks. But his phone buzzed. It was Sarah, with a curt, “Something came up. No party.” A sigh escaped him, but it quickly dissolved into a series of snorts. He pictured the forlorn balloons, the deflated hopes. He grabbed the largest balloon, a particularly disgruntled kitty, and bounced it off the ceiling, again and again, until he'd almost knocked over the lamps.