Gemotions

The antique clock he was due to bid on was almost certainly being auctioned off. He could feel his heart hammering against his ribs, a frantic rhythm against the backdrop of the airport's sterile ambience. The delay meant lost profit, lost prestige.

He kept checking the time, then glancing at the faces of other travelers. He felt a surge of resentment towards anyone who looked calm, who wasn't sharing his urgent predicament.

He saw a donation box for a local children's charity. He quickly looked away. Any charitable gesture felt like a waste of his resources right now. He had to think about himself and his opportunity.