Gemotions

A cold knot sat in Thomas’s stomach as he watched Brenda, her usual cheerful self, bounce into the office. The sun streaming through the window highlighted the dust motes dancing in the air, a stark contrast to the thick cloud of gloom that seemed to perpetually surround him. He was a shadow, about to fade.

“Alright, let’s get started!” Brenda chirped, her voice a relentless tide against his internal storm. He swallowed, the words catching in his throat. He felt leaden, slow, the simple task of opening a file felt like scaling a mountain.

He pointed to the screen, his fingers heavy, each movement feeling labored. Brenda, bright and buoyant, absorbed the information with an almost disturbing ease. He wanted to scream. He wanted to retreat into the stale air of the breakroom and disappear.