Gemotions

The light felt too bright, bouncing off the polished wood of the stage and reflecting into his eyes. He shielded them with a hand, the action automatic, as if he were trying to block a physical blow. A dull ache throbbed behind his temples. He could hear the hum of the air conditioner, a constant, unsettling drone that seemed to burrow into his brain.

He remembered writing this speech. He remembered the anecdotes, the jokes, the carefully chosen words of praise. Now, the words felt brittle, like dust in his mouth. He found himself staring at the faces in the crowd. They were indistinct. He could not connect them to the people he was supposed to be talking about. He took a long, shallow breath, feeling as though he was breathing through a clogged straw.