Gemotions

He stared at the invitation, the embossed lettering blurring slightly through unfocused eyes. Mark dropped into the kitchen chair, the wood groaning in protest. He hadn’t sat in it for hours.

The fluorescent light hummed, a relentless, grating sound that amplified the hollow ache in his bones. The reunion. He imagined the forced smiles, the boasting, the inevitable comparisons.

He pushed the invitation away, tracing the edge of the table with a sluggish finger. He felt leaden, the very thought of the effort involved in attending making his limbs feel heavier.