Gemotions

The embossed invitation felt heavy in Daniel's hand. He traced the elegant script, each loop and flourish a painful reminder of a past he hadn't quite outrun. His stomach clenched. He hadn't been back to his hometown in years.

He tossed the invitation onto his desk, the glossy paper landing amongst the bills and overdue notices. A wave of regret washed over him as he pictured the faces, the laughter, the cliques he had so desperately wanted to be a part of. He’d never quite fit in.

Daniel leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. He remembered Sarah, the girl with the kind eyes and the shy smile. He wished he had been kinder to her, more receptive to her overtures of friendship. Now, he imagined she was probably married with kids, living a life he couldn’t fathom.

He found himself reaching for the phone, the impulse to call his mother overwhelming. He wanted to know how everyone was, if anyone remembered him at all. He put the phone down, the dial tone mocking him.