Gemotions

He stared at the blank document on his laptop screen. It mocked him with its emptiness. His mother's retirement. A joyous occasion. He was supposed to express his gratitude, share some funny anecdotes, maybe even shed a tear or two. He felt anything but joyful.

The keyboard looked like a foreign object, the cursor blinking accusingly. His breathing quickened, a shallow pant in his chest. A pressure, almost physical, built behind his eyes. He should have started sooner. He was woefully unprepared.

He clicked the document closed and leaned back in his chair, the leather squeaking in the quiet room. He felt a cold dread creep into his bones, a feeling he couldn't shake. He wondered if he could fake an illness.