Gemotions

The world tilted. He’d envisioned this moment, rehearsed this moment, countless times. He’d meticulously planned the future, step by step, all dependent on this single outcome. And now, the rug had been yanked out from under him. He leaned back in his chair, the office chair creaking in protest. His mouth hung open. A shiver, not of cold, but of something else, rippled through him. He found himself staring at the ceiling, lost in the intricate patterns of the acoustic tiles. He couldn't help a high, involuntary sound.