Gemotions

The invitation lay on the kitchen counter, taunting him. His mother, retiring. The woman who’d worked tirelessly her entire life. He felt a profound sense of disorientation, a disconnect from reality. The words on the invitation – “Join us to celebrate…” – swam before his eyes.

He found himself pacing the hallway the day of the party, a nervous habit he hadn't indulged in years. His tie felt constricting. His shirt felt too tight. He kept running a hand through his hair, mussing it further.

When his name was called, he froze. His heart hammered against his ribs. He felt a sudden, inexplicable urge to run. But he stood, his feet rooted to the spot, and walked toward the stage, each step an excruciating act of will.