Gemotions

“Are you alright, John?” His coworker's voice was a distant echo. The email. It sat there, still flashing in the corner of his monitor, an unwanted intruder. John stared, but the words wouldn't organize themselves. He was trapped in a spinning vortex.

He didn't answer. He couldn't. His throat felt tight. He had been at the company for years, almost half his life. He felt the blood draining from his face, and his hands were clammy. He needed to get out.

He rose from his chair, a little unsteadily. He mumbled something about needing a break and stumbled towards the door. The familiar office felt like a foreign planet.