Gemotions

The microphone felt heavy in Elias’s hand, a tangible weight mirroring the hollowness in his chest. He adjusted his tie, the fabric suddenly too tight around his neck. His father, beaming from the dais, seemed impossibly bright, his smile a blinding beacon. Elias cleared his throat, the sound a dry rasp in the cavernous hall. He’d rehearsed this speech a dozen times, but now the words felt foreign, disconnected from the lump forming in his throat.

His fingers fidgeted with the edge of the paper, tracing the neat lines of the bullet points. He saw the years etched into his father's face, the lines around his eyes that held laughter and countless stories. A knot tightened in Elias's stomach. He remembered fishing trips, baseball games in the park, the unwavering support that had always been there. Now, the future felt vast and empty.

He began to read, his voice wavering slightly. Each sentence was a step towards a new chapter, a chapter where his father’s daily presence would be different. The thought brought a prickling sensation to his eyes, a sensation he fiercely fought against.