Gemotions

"Just a small gathering," Clara had said, a casualness that grated on her nerves. She’d envisioned a cozy dinner, a quiet evening with close friends to celebrate her birthday. Now, she sat alone at the kitchen table, the meticulously set place settings reflecting her own disappointed face.

The aroma of the roast chicken, once inviting, now filled the room with a heavy, melancholy perfume. She picked at the food, the taste suddenly bland and unsatisfying.

Outside, the sounds of laughter and music drifted from the park, the venue of Amelia's outdoor fest. Clara pushed her plate away. The candles on her birthday cake remained unlit.