Gemotions

The invitation was tucked between the pages of a dog-eared cookbook. He found it while searching for a late-night snack. He pulled up a chair and slumped into it, the kitchen lights seeming a little too bright. The fluorescent buzz was particularly irksome.

His gaze scanned the invitation’s details. The venue, the date, the dress code. It all seemed incredibly distant, irrelevant. He sighed, the sound heavy in the quiet kitchen. He considered going back to bed instead.

The thought of facing anyone from that time in his life made his eyelids feel heavy. He rubbed his eyes, the motion of the action feeling like a great effort. He set the invitation on the counter and reached for the cookie jar instead. Maybe something sweet would help.