Gemotions

Her vision blurred, the room appearing to shrink and then expand in a disorienting rhythm. She gripped the edge of the table, knuckles white, fighting to ground herself. The polite chatter around her was a distant hum, the words incomprehensible.

The speeches so far had all gone so well, filled with stories and laughter. How could she possibly follow that? Her throat felt constricted, making it difficult to even swallow.

She wanted to run, to hide. Her legs felt heavy, as if anchored to the floor. The emcee cleared his throat, and the microphone became a monster, ready to devour her.