Gemotions

The drive to the event had been a trial. Traffic, the rain, everything conspired to make him late. Now, here he was, trapped. The room was too hot, the lights too bright. He felt a dull ache in his jaw, from clenching it.

He surveyed the scene, his gaze landing on the smiling faces, the animated gestures. He wanted to scream. He wanted to be anywhere else. This forced joviality felt suffocating.

He fiddled with his watch, the metal cold against his wrist. He was next. The thought of standing up there, of having to articulate forced sentiments, made his gut clench.