Gemotions

He was talking to her mother. The image, unbidden, flashed through Michael’s mind, and he had to fight the urge to duck behind a decorative fern. He took a sip of water, the cold liquid doing little to soothe the sudden dryness in his mouth.

He wished he had stayed home. He’d promised himself he’d be fine, that he’d treat this evening as any other. Now, the air seemed thinner, harder to breathe. He felt a bead of sweat trickle down his temple. He straightened his tie, then immediately loosened it again.