Gemotions

The airport buzzed with the typical flurry of activity. He sat at the gate, watching the planes take off and land. His friend, David, was leaving for a new job in Denver. It was a great opportunity, David kept saying, which was why it was hard to voice any opposition.

His hands were folded in his lap, his knuckles white. He could feel the blood rushing through his veins. He felt strangely anchored. The announcement over the loudspeaker faded into an echo. He found himself studying the worn patterns of the carpet. He just felt stuck. Time moved differently, dragging along.