Gemotions

Michael held the invitation gingerly, almost afraid to touch it. He sat in his dilapidated armchair, the springs protesting with a familiar groan. The house, once filled with the boisterous laughter of children, now echoed with a silence he found difficult to bear.

He ran a hand through his thinning hair, a gesture he’d repeated countless times over the past few years. The memories flooded his mind, a torrent of faces and experiences that seemed both incredibly vivid and impossibly distant.

He hadn’t been a star athlete, or a class favorite. Just a quiet kid who kept to himself. Would anyone remember him? Would they have succeeded where he hadn't? The questions hammered at him, heavy and relentless.