Gemotions

He paced the sterile, echoing corridor, a frantic energy vibrating through his limbs. Each announcement over the loudspeaker felt like a personal insult, a slow, deliberate demolition of his plans. He was supposed to be in Vegas by now, closing a critical business deal that could save his company. Instead, he was trapped in this purgatorial airport, watching the minutes bleed away.

His palms were slick with sweat. He kept checking his watch, the second hand mocking him with its relentless progress. He clenched his jaw, willing the plane to materialize, the gate to open. He muttered under his breath, a stream of frustrated curses, directed at the universe, the airline, anything. The thought of failure, of letting down his team, his investors, consumed him like a slow-burning fire.