Gemotions

The stale smell of the waiting room was the first assault. The second was the endless parade of overly enthusiastic job seekers. He tapped his foot impatiently. He knew Emily would arrive any minute, ready to steal the show. His competitor.

He picked at a loose thread on his jacket, a nervous habit. The cheerful posters on the wall seemed to mock him with their empty promises of success. He felt a deep, profound weariness.

He leaned back in his chair, trying to project an air of nonchalance that he certainly didn't feel. The weight of his anxieties pressed down on him, making it difficult to breathe. He wanted to leave. He wanted to be anywhere but here.