Gemotions

He felt it first as a tremor, deep in his gut, a churning unease that spread outward, seizing his limbs. The department transfer. From R&D to Customer Service. He could feel his face flush, a burning sensation that began in his cheeks and crept up his neck. He began to pace his small cubicle, the confined space suddenly feeling claustrophobic.

“Absolutely not,” he muttered, his voice a low, strangled rasp. The words vibrated in his chest, a desperate protest. The air felt thick, heavy, as if the walls were closing in. He ran a hand through his already disheveled hair, leaving it standing on end.

He grabbed the nearest stapler and hurled it across the room. It smashed against the wall with a loud bang, and he flinched, as if the sound had been directed at him. His heart hammered against his ribs, a frantic rhythm that mirrored the turmoil inside him. He envisioned himself answering phones all day, dealing with complaints. He wouldn't last a day. He couldn't.