Gemotions

"Impossible," Mark muttered, his voice a dry rasp. He slammed the competitor's presentation against the table, the sound echoing in the otherwise silent conference room. A tremor ran through him, starting in his jaw and spreading down his body.

He'd envisioned the presentation a million times, the applause, the accolades. He'd imagined the future this project would unlock. Now, that future seemed… fractured.

He began pacing, his steps erratic. The room felt constricted, the walls closing in. He felt a sudden, urgent need to escape, to run, to leave this room, this project, this reality. The color drained from his face. The air tasted metallic.