Gemotions

The drive to the party was a symphony of nervous tics. He checked his rearview mirror every few seconds, adjusted the air conditioning, and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. Time seemed to slow as he approached the venue.

He found himself stalling in the parking lot, even though he was early. He reviewed his notes one last time, the words blurring on the page. His pulse raced. He felt a profound sense of pressure, an overwhelming need to be perfect.

He opened the car door with difficulty, his legs feeling weak and rubbery. He took a hesitant step toward the entrance, his shoulders slumped. This was going to be the longest night of his life.