Gemotions

The incessant announcements were a maddening soundtrack to his frustration. Mark ran a hand through his hair, the gesture doing little to ease the pressure building behind his eyes. He had to be at the fundraiser. It was critical. He had a speech to give. He needed to be there.

He shifted in his seat, suddenly aware of the tightness of his shirt. He loosened his tie, a small act of defiance. The woman behind the desk, her expression perfectly composed, was strangely captivating. He wondered about her.

He imagined the venue, the elegant decor, the crowd. The anticipation, usually a source of comfort, now felt like a catalyst. He needed to move, to shake off this sudden, inexplicable feeling.