Gemotions

The anticipation had turned her insides to bubbles. She could barely sit still at her desk, tapping her pen against the wood, eyes darting from the clock to the window. The thought of celebrating, of all the fuss and attention, made her skin prickle with a strange heat. She'd planned the perfect outfit, a vibrant dress, perfect for…nothing.

The email arrived, a digital dagger. Cancelled. The sudden cessation of excitement was like being plunged into an ice bath. Her shoulders slumped. The vibrant colours of the dress suddenly seemed garish, the fabric mocking her with its potential. She felt a profound emptiness, a yawning abyss where the party, and the pleasure, had promised to be.