Gemotions

The email arrived with the subject line "Retirement Party Details." David had opened it casually, expecting the usual information. Then he saw it: "Please prepare a short speech." His fingers froze on the mouse. His eyebrows shot up.

He reread the sentence twice. His brain scrambled to process. He, of all people, to deliver a speech? He was the family black sheep, the one known for his awkward silences and tendency to blurt out inappropriate comments.

He felt a hot flush creep up his neck. He immediately started drafting excuses in his head. The thought of standing in front of a crowd, particularly one filled with his dad’s colleagues, filled him with a potent dread. He felt a wave of nausea, a dizzying feeling.