Gemotions

The news about the flight to see his daughter’s final game slammed into Michael. He slumped into his seat, feeling as though the very air had been sucked from the terminal. His heart hammered in his chest, a frantic drumbeat against his ribs.

He kept staring at his watch, as if by willing the hands to move faster, he could defy reality. He clenched and unclenched his fists, desperate for some control in a situation where he had none.

He tried to concentrate on a book, but the words swam before his eyes. He slammed it shut, unable to focus. He just wanted to be there.

He rose from his chair, a wave of nausea washing over him. He felt the need to escape, to run anywhere, but knew there was nowhere to go.