Gemotions

The overly enthusiastic DJ's voice grated on Fiona’s nerves. She hated weddings. She especially hated *this* wedding. When he walked in, she got a lump in her throat.

She found herself clutching her purse tightly, as if it were a shield. She felt the urge to flee, to disappear into the night. She took a deep breath, trying to regain control.

She retreated to the far corner of the room, pretending to be engrossed in a conversation with her aunt. Her responses were clipped, her words strained. She took another gulp of her drink. Each second felt like an eternity.