Gemotions

A cold sweat slicked down Leo’s back. He’d intended to text his best friend, Mark, a particularly unflattering picture of their boss, Mr. Thompson, wearing a ridiculous hat. Instead, it had landed in Mr. Thompson’s own inbox. He stared at the screen, every muscle in his body rigid. The office was eerily quiet, the fluorescent lights buzzing overhead like judgmental insects.

Leo's cheeks burned as he imagined Mr. Thompson's reaction. He imagined him staring at the picture. He could hear the laughter, see the pointed glances from his colleagues. He wished he could teleport himself away, anywhere but here. He considered feigning a sudden illness, but his legs felt glued to the floor.