Gemotions

My hands were clammy, a dampness that spread across the palms. The words "We've decided to move forward with..." hung in the air, a verbal guillotine. Then, "David." I blinked, once, twice. It wasn’t me.

My carefully rehearsed smile flickered and died. A strange buzzing sensation had begun in my ears, and the room seemed to shrink, the walls closing in. I could feel my cheeks flushing, a heat that prickled across my skin.

I focused on a spot on the carpet, a tiny thread out of place, desperately trying to anchor myself. The congratulations began, a chorus of voices I couldn't quite decipher. My tongue felt thick, useless, incapable of forming a coherent response.