Gemotions

The coffee cup trembled in David's hand, sloshing lukewarm liquid onto the freshly polished conference table. He stammered over the opening lines of his presentation, his meticulously prepared notes suddenly seeming like hieroglyphs. Across the room, Sarah, his rival, sat composed, her gaze unwavering.

His heart hammered against his ribs, a frantic drumbeat urging him to flee. He could feel a flush creeping up his neck, and a burning sensation erupted behind his eyes. He stumbled over a statistic, correcting himself with a rushed, almost desperate apology.

"Just… just breathe," he mumbled, his voice wavering. He felt the room tilt, the bright lights blurring. His fingers, now numb, struggled to turn the page. The pages felt like sand paper against his fingertips. Sweat beaded on his forehead, threatening to spill into his already blurry vision.

He squeezed the bridge of his nose, trying to regain control. He was certain he was making a fool of himself.