Gemotions

The retirement party felt like a looming deadline, a task that required far more effort than could be mustered. The invitation felt like a physical weight, pressing down on him. The prospect of giving a speech was a source of constant, low-level dread.

He attempted to write something, but the words were thick and viscous. They were hard to create. He stared blankly at the screen.

The party was a blur of forced smiles and small talk. When he finally stood to speak, the microphone felt heavy in his hand. The words were a laborious crawl to the finish.