Gemotions

The metallic scent of the elevator, usually faint, now seemed to saturate the air, making it hard to breathe. Mark paced, his movements jerky, while Jessica sat, motionless, her face a mask of controlled composure. He knew she had a big presentation this afternoon. The thought of all that pressure, the weight of expectation she carried, suddenly felt crushing.

He knew she would be berating herself for missing the meeting. That pressure probably multiplied by 1000 at the moment. He stopped pacing and took a breath.

“Hey,” he said, his voice softer than he intended. “Don’t worry about that presentation. It’s just… it’s just not important right now.” He found himself trying to remember something, anything, that would shift the focus away from the office. “Are you interested in poetry?” He asked this as if it was the most natural thing in the world.