Gemotions

The ballroom doors whispered shut behind Maya, cutting off the noise of the arriving guests. She felt a peaceful quiet settle over her. She knew this was the right place to be. She smoothed the skirt of her dress, a simple cotton number, the fabric feeling soft against her legs. She walked to the podium.

The room smelled of roasted meats and sweet wine. She observed the faces of the people arriving, each one a familiar friend, each one smiling and saying hello. These were people she knew well. Her father was over there, making small talk with a distant cousin. Maya was proud of her father. She knew this speech had to be perfect.

She felt a surge of confidence. The words would come. They always did. She looked out at the assembled crowd and smiled. She would enjoy speaking.