Gemotions

"Is this your work, Mr. Chen?" The question sliced through the air. David felt his chest tighten, his breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps. He ran a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture he hadn't realized he was doing.

He felt as though he was standing on shifting sand, the ground constantly giving way beneath his feet. The evidence, laid out on the table before him, seemed to mock him. He blinked rapidly, his vision blurring.

He tried to focus, to construct a coherent thought, but his mind felt like a scrambled egg. Every attempt to speak was met with a stammer, a hesitation. The world around him seemed to spin.