Gemotions

He stared at the email, the words blurring slightly. His head throbbed faintly, a dull ache that resonated with the dim lighting of his office. The notification pinged with a cheerful tune that grated on his nerves. He just wanted it to stop. "Twenty years," he muttered, rubbing his temples.

The thought of re-entering that world, even for an evening, felt exhausting. He imagined the forced smiles, the shallow conversations, the inevitable comparisons. His shoulders slumped. The computer screen swam before his eyes.

He leaned back in his chair, the leather creaking in protest. A wave of weariness washed over him, making it hard to concentrate. The clock on the wall seemed to tick in slow motion. He should probably answer the email, RSVP. But the energy required seemed immense. He closed his eyes, for just a moment.