Gemotions

The photograph, taped haphazardly to the refrigerator, was a painful reminder. Mark, grinning, holding a trophy, surrounded by a chorus of familiar, smiling faces. It felt like a lifetime ago. A knot formed in his stomach. The invitation for the reunion had arrived that morning, and he’d been avoiding it all day.

He poured himself a glass of water, his hand trembling slightly. The water spilled over the side of the glass. He felt a sudden, inexplicable urge to clean, to sanitize, to make everything perfect. He wondered what they would think of him now. He felt a tremor in his hands.

He looked at the cluttered apartment, a stark contrast to the picture. He wanted to throw the glass against the wall. Instead, he took a deep, shaky breath, and left the glass on the countertop.