Gemotions

He felt a searing heat crawl up his neck, prickling his skin. Michael reread the email, the words on the screen vibrating in a way that made him nauseous. The same presentation. The *exact* same. His chest felt constricted. His carefully crafted plan, his painstaking effort, all for naught.

He ripped his headphones off, the wires tangling uselessly in his hands. He wanted to throw them across the room, smash something. The walls felt like they were closing in. He needed air. He stormed out of his apartment, the slamming door a release of pressure.

The brisk autumn air did little to cool his anger. He walked, legs pumping, until he found himself outside the coffee shop where she – Sarah – always worked. He spotted her through the window, chatting casually with a customer. He took a deep, shuddering breath and walked inside. “Sarah,” he said, his voice tight, “we need to talk.”