Gemotions

Sweat beaded on Marcus’s forehead as he stared at the assembly line, the rhythmic clanging of metal hammers seeming to mock his every thought. Moving from research and development to the factory floor felt like a sentence, a punishment for something he couldn't even name. His hands trembled as he tried to grasp the wrench, the oily metal slick against his skin.

The foreman, a mountain of a man named Big Tony, barked, "Get a move on, rookie! We ain't got all day." Marcus jumped, his heart hammering against his ribs. He felt a phantom weight on his shoulders, a crushing pressure that made breathing difficult.

He thought, "I have to get back." He had to claw his way back to his work, back to the lab bench, or all would be lost. The taste of failure coated his tongue.