Gemotions

He’d almost forgotten about the speech. Then the email arrived, a digital prod. “Just a few words, nothing too long!” it chirped. A fresh wave of heat washed over Michael's face. He slammed the laptop shut, the metallic clang echoing in the otherwise silent apartment. His father, the man who’d always prioritized work over family, was finally hanging up his hat. And Michael was supposed to stand up and say what? That he was glad?

He paced, his fists clenched at his sides. The small space of the living room felt constricting. He could barely bring himself to look at the photos of his father hanging on the wall. They seemed to leer back at him, silent judges. The invitation, now crumpled and torn, lay discarded on the floor, a testament to his current state of mind.