Gemotions

The smell of cheap cologne was overpowering. Across the table, Mark, the new intern, beamed, holding up his prototype. It was a perfect replica of the mechanism he had toiled over for months. A wave of nausea washed over him. The metallic tang of fear coated his mouth. He felt a desperate urge to bolt.

He leaned back, attempting to distance himself from the toxic aura emanating from Mark. “Where… where did you get…?” he started, his voice barely audible. He could feel the blood draining from his face. The air-conditioning suddenly felt inadequate, failing to combat the suffocating heat in his chest.