Gemotions

The air in the room was close, thick with unspoken resentments. He felt it clinging to him, a suffocating blanket. He watched his sister deliver her speech, her voice clear and strong. He felt a stab of envy, and then, immediately, guilt.

He had stayed in his parent’s home too long. He had taken too much, given too little. The knowledge was a lead weight. His heart beat an erratic rhythm against his ribs.

He glanced at his watch. The minute hand seemed to move in slow motion. He wished he could fast-forward to the end, to the moment he could finally escape the room. The waiter, offering a tray of canapés, loomed before him, their polite smiles mocking his distress.