Gemotions

She clutched the podium, her knuckles white. The lights felt hot, the murmuring crowd a low, insistent buzz. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the silence before she started. She had practiced this speech a dozen times, but now, all the words seemed to have vanished. A sudden, almost manic energy surged through her.

She cleared her throat, her mouth dry, then plunged in. Her pace quickened, her sentences becoming shorter, sharper, laced with a barely-contained excitement. She spoke of her father's dedication, his unwavering spirit, the way he always knew the right thing to say.

She saw her father beaming at her, a single tear rolling down his cheek. Suddenly, she felt a powerful urge to run, to sprint across the room and throw her arms around him. But she couldn't. She had to finish. The feeling wouldn't let her stop, it demanded she keep going.