Gemotions

The air in the room was thick with the scent of perfume and forced cheer. He kept touching the smooth, cold surface of the podium, seeking a sense of grounding. His throat felt closed, a physical barrier against the words he needed to speak. They felt like jagged shards, ready to tear him apart from the inside.

He’d arrived early, hoping to find a quiet space, a moment of inspiration. But the room buzzed with anticipation, with the unspoken expectation that he would deliver something profound. He felt pinned down, trapped by the weight of expectation. He needed to escape.

He saw his sister across the room, smiling encouragingly. It was too much. The thought of disappointing her, of failing his father, intensified the pressure. He felt a tremor run through him, a physical manifestation of his utter inability to cope.