Gemotions

He watched the champagne bubbles fizz in his glass, the celebratory clinking of glasses around him a cacophony. The room swam into focus. He was supposed to be the life of the party, the one cracking jokes and telling stories. Instead, his voice felt trapped, his usual wit having abandoned him.

He’d almost missed the train. He'd nearly gotten held up by work. He felt the familiar weight of duty and responsibility pressing down on him, and the knowledge of his constant absences.

He saw the way his mother's eyes crinkled when she smiled at him. He hadn't called her in weeks. He took a long, slow sip, the dryness of the champagne mirroring the dryness in his chest.