Gemotions

The air in the sterile office felt thick, suffocating. “There's been a mix-up,” the administrator repeated, her voice perfectly modulated, devoid of feeling. He barely heard the words over the furious roar in his ears. He wanted to scream, to dismantle the room, to make them understand the gravity of their blunder.

His hands clenched into fists, the nails digging crescent moons into his palms. He stood, his chair scraping against the floor, the sound harsh and abrupt. He needed air, needed to be anywhere but this place. He stalked out of the office, the door slamming shut behind him, the sound echoing in the silent hallway.