Gemotions

The airport felt like a pressure cooker, the air thick with frustration and the stench of stale coffee. Ben, on his way to a crucial business meeting, felt his carefully constructed facade of calm begin to crack. The delay notification blared over the loudspeaker yet again, each word a hammer blow to his carefully cultivated composure.

His leg bounced erratically as he scanned the room, each face a mirror of his own growing panic. He pictured his boss’s disappointment, the lost deal, the potential repercussions. He had to be there.

He abruptly stood up and began pacing, muttering to himself, his voice barely audible above the airport din. He considered all his options, each one a dwindling hope.