Gemotions

The invitation landed on Sarah’s doorstep like a bomb. It was a crisp, impersonal announcement, promising an evening of nostalgia and celebration. She felt a tightening in her chest, a familiar knot of discomfort that always came when the past intruded on her carefully constructed present.

She tossed the card onto her already overflowing kitchen counter. Her gaze fell on the overflowing sink full of dirty dishes. She grabbed a sponge and angrily scrubbed at a stubborn spot on a plate. The thought of small talk, of forced smiles, of being forced to pretend she hadn't barely scraped by for twenty years was enough to bring her to the brink of tears.

A sudden, sharp pain flared in her shoulder, a physical manifestation of the stress. She threw the plate into the sink.