Gemotions

He’d almost forgotten about it. The surprise party. Then the text arrived: "Changed plans. Sorry." James leaned back against the brick wall, the rough texture offering no solace. He looked at his reflection in the darkened shop window: a man with a shadow clinging to him.

He’d hoped, briefly, that this might be different. That this year, someone, anyone, might acknowledge his existence. The weight of his own solitude pressed down on him, suffocating. He pulled his collar up around his face, hiding from the world.

He lit a cigarette, the smoke curling into the air, a fleeting, ephemeral thing. He watched it disappear, a perfect metaphor for his own life.