Gemotions

The elevator ride felt interminably long, the upward journey a symbolic climb he didn't want to make. Each floor that passed, each chime signaling another arrival, seemed to deepen the shadows around him. He felt hollow, like an empty shell. The crisp morning air held no allure; the city skyline no longer felt inspiring.

He avoided eye contact as he entered the office, finding refuge in the dimness of his cubicle. The thought of facing the day, the competition, the possibility of triumph or rejection, sent a wave of nausea through him. He reached for his phone, scrolling through meaningless news articles to distract himself from the gathering dread.

A message from Emily, his rival, popped up: "Good luck today, David!" He stared at the message and felt only a profound sense of… something. He just wanted to go home.