Gemotions

The ornate invitation rested on the kitchen counter, untouched and unread. It felt like a trap. The very thought of the high school reunion made her stomach churn. She ran a hand over her forehead, attempting to smooth away the wrinkles of apprehension.

She paced the kitchen, her steps restless and hurried. She looked at the clock, then out the window, as though escape was on the horizon. The memories, unwanted and unwelcome, began to flood her mind.

She finally picked up the invitation, but rather than open it, she tossed it into the recycling bin.