Gemotions

The invitation sat on Eleanor's kitchen counter, a bright pink square amongst the usual bills and junk mail. She’d been avoiding it for days, the floral print mocking her every morning. Her mother’s retirement party. And a speech. The mere thought clenched her jaw.

She picked up the invitation, her fingers tracing the embossed lettering. "A few words of appreciation." The words felt like a physical weight, pressing down on her. She crumpled it and tossed it in the trash, then immediately retrieved it.

A hot wave surged through her chest. It was absurd. Why *her*? She marched over to the fridge, slammed it open, and grabbed a bottle of sparkling water, ignoring her husband's gentle question of "are you okay?"