Gemotions

From the corner of his eye, he saw his sister, composed and collected, preparing to speak after him. She always managed it with such effortless grace. He felt a stab of inadequacy, a familiar ache. He smoothed the front of his jacket, realizing his palms were damp.

The catered food felt like lead in his stomach. He wasn’t hungry. He longed to be anywhere else. The thought of this being about his parents, rather than him, was a comfort, but also something he couldn’t grasp.

He managed to stammer out a few platitudes about his mother’s kindness. The words felt disconnected, unreal.