Gemotions

He stared at the publication, his heart hammering against his ribs. His article, his work, credited to another. His legs felt unsteady, his body trembling with a sensation he couldn’t name. He gripped the edge of the desk, seeking a physical anchor.

He could feel the blood draining from his face, leaving him cold. His head swam, and the room seemed to tilt slightly. He didn't know what to do, how to react. The walls seemed to move closer. The very air around him felt toxic.

He backed away slowly, as if pursued. He wanted to scream, to lash out, but the words were trapped in his throat. He needed to get away, to escape the suffocating weight of this reality. He grabbed his bag, moving swiftly toward the door.