Gemotions

The embossed invitation felt heavy in Daniel's hand. He traced the elegant script: "Northwood High, Class of '04. Fifteen Year Reunion." Fifteen years. He hadn't aged a day, the photo on the invite declared with brutal honesty. He, on the other hand, felt like a relic.

He tossed the invitation onto the kitchen counter, where it landed amongst unopened mail and half-eaten cereal bowls. The sink overflowed with dirty dishes. He hadn't done the dishes in days. He ran a hand through his thinning hair, feeling the familiar prickle of frustration.

"Another Friday night," he muttered, the words echoing in the empty apartment. He grabbed a beer from the fridge, the cold glass a small comfort against the heat creeping up his neck. He flicked on the television, aimlessly surfing channels. The screen flickered, casting shadows that danced across the room, mimicking the restlessness churning inside him.