Gemotions

"Just a few words," his mother had chirped, her voice bright and cheerful. Michael had agreed, eager to please. Now, he regretted it. The pressure of it was a lead weight in his stomach. He felt a profound depletion.

He reread his scribbled notes, the words blurring before his tired eyes. He barely had the energy to get through his day, let alone craft a heartfelt tribute. He found his mind wandering, drifting towards the unfinished tasks awaiting him.

He was in the back room of the venue, avoiding the merriment. He leaned against the wall, the coolness a small comfort. The laughter and chatter from the party sounded distant, like a radio playing from the other side of a closed door. He closed his eyes, wanting nothing more than to be somewhere else.