Gemotions

The hum of the air conditioning was a constant, monotonous drone. David sat in his car, the engine idling. He was avoiding going inside. The retirement party was imminent, and he felt like he was drowning in invisible chains. His father’s career, a testament to discipline and unwavering loyalty, seemed to highlight his own lack of direction.

He fiddled with the radio, switching stations, searching for a signal, a clue, anything to break the feeling of constraint. He knew what he *should* say, how he *should* feel. But the words felt like borrowed clothes, ill-fitting and uncomfortable. He slammed his fist against the steering wheel, the sound swallowed by the quiet interior of the car. The thought of walking into the party filled him with dread.