Gemotions

The first thing Maria did was to crumple the invitation. Then, she smoothed it out on the table, trying to make it look less like something she’d rather not look at. "Ten years," she murmured, her voice tight. She felt a profound sense of inadequacy. The email announcing the invitation had arrived at the worst possible time.

She glanced at her reflection in the darkened window, noting the lines etched around her eyes. She felt old, tired, and her work had left her feeling defeated. Maria buried her face in her hands. The image of those perfect people, those perfect lives – she could not bear to face them. She shoved the invitation to the back of the drawer.