Gemotions

The tiled floor of the airport seemed to tilt beneath his feet. He swayed slightly, gripping the armrests of the chair as if to steady himself. The delay was an unwelcome punch to the gut. The world was blurry around the edges, as if seen through a clouded lens.

His son’s recital. He had looked forward to it for months. He had practiced with him at home. Now, a sea of potential disappointment surged through him. He imagined his son’s face, the disappointment a searing brand.

He felt a sudden, inexplicable heat. He took off his jacket, the fabric twisting awkwardly in his hands. He was losing control, the world around him tilting, the familiar landscape dissolving into an abstract painting. He squeezed his eyes shut.