Gemotions

The microphone stood like a looming monolith in the center of the stage. David swallowed hard, feeling his throat tighten. He'd rehearsed his speech a dozen times, but now, surrounded by the expectant faces of his parents' friends and colleagues, the words seemed to have evaporated from his mind.

He shifted from foot to foot, the polished floor cold against his shoes. His palms were slick, and he surreptitiously wiped them on his trousers. He wished he could turn and run, disappear into the shadows at the back of the room.

His father gave him a reassuring nod, a loving look on his face. David forced a smile, but the expression felt unnatural, brittle. He closed his eyes for a second, trying to regain his composure.