Gemotions

"So, Mr. Johnson, can you explain this?" The stern voice of the ethics committee chairman echoed in the sterile room. David’s pulse hammered in his ears. He was desperate to look anywhere other than at the documents laid out before him. The accusations felt like a physical assault, a brutal accusation of character.

He forced himself to meet the chairman's gaze, but the words wouldn't come. He fumbled with his hands, picking at the loose threads of his jeans. His throat constricted, making it impossible to form a coherent sentence. He could feel a hot flush spreading across his neck, and he was acutely aware of the judgmental stares of the committee members. It was a suffocating sensation.