Gemotions

He stared at the blank document on his laptop screen. "A Toast to Thomas and Eleanor!" the heading read. Underneath, a single, blinking cursor mocked him. His breath hitched in his chest. He chewed on the inside of his cheek, a familiar tic. The retirement party was this Friday.

He needed to get this done. He’d promised his mother he’d speak, the pressure already building in his chest like a balloon about to burst. He opened his email, hoping for a distraction, but the subject line of the reminder for the party only amplified his unease.

He pushed his chair back from the desk, got up, and began to pace. The floorboards creaked under his weight, each step a further beat against the frantic rhythm of his heart. How could he possibly encapsulate his parents' lives in a few short sentences?