Gemotions

He stared out the window, the cityscape a blur of movement. Across from him, the young woman, Emily, was asking a question about a particularly complex client. He felt a flush creep up his neck. His hands balled into fists.

He'd always been a creature of habit, and the idea of change, of being replaced, filled him with a cold dread. He felt an overwhelming urge to run away. The walls seemed to be closing in.

He mumbled an answer, his voice barely audible. He longed for the familiar routine, the comfort of knowing what was expected of him. He felt his breath catching in his chest. He wished the meeting would end, wished he could simply vanish. He wanted everything to go back to the way it was before.