Gemotions

The weight of the conversation settled on him like a physical burden. He listened to Mr. Bell’s concerns, his voice a low, steady drone. The man was right, of course, but it still felt like an accusation.

He felt a burning sensation in his throat. He tried to speak, but the words wouldn't come. He cleared his throat and tried again, finally managing a weak, “I understand.”

He found himself staring at his feet, tracing patterns in the dirt with the toe of his shoe. The world narrowed to this single point. He desperately wanted this whole thing to be a dream. The situation felt heavy and inescapable.