Gemotions

As the speeches commenced, the tension in Fiona's chest tightened. She took shallow breaths, desperate for air. She sat alone at a table near the back, the faces of the celebrants a blurry wash of color and motion.

She had spent the last few days locked in her apartment, the curtains drawn. She felt as though she’d failed at everything, that nothing she ever did had ever truly mattered. What could she possibly say that would bring joy?

She fidgeted, pushing around the remaining crumbs of her dinner. She wanted to scream. She lowered her head to her hands.