Gemotions

The flickering fluorescent lights in the breakroom cast long, distorted shadows on the wall. Michael chewed his lip, staring at the vending machine. The selection felt inadequate, a cruel joke. Across the room, Sarah, his friend, was chatting animatedly with the other candidates. He felt a lump form in his throat.

He’d always considered them a team. They had even made a pact to always support each other. Now, a strange, unwelcome tension had taken hold. Every shared glance, every fleeting smile, seemed loaded with unspoken meaning.

He wanted to go over and join them, to act normal, but his feet felt rooted to the floor. The simple act of choosing a snack felt monumentally difficult. He took a deep breath, and felt a pressure building in his chest.