Gemotions

The courtroom felt suffocating. The polished wood of the judge’s bench seemed to gleam mockingly under the harsh fluorescent lights. David fidgeted in his seat, the starched collar of his shirt suddenly feeling impossibly tight around his neck. He avoided eye contact with the towering figure of Marcus Cole, his literary hero, who sat at the defense table.

He kept his gaze fixed on the worn rug at his feet. The hum of the air conditioning did nothing to soothe his clammy palms. The case, his case, the one that could make or break him, began to unfold. Each detail felt like a sharp jab, twisting in the wound of his already raw emotions.

His leg bounced uncontrollably. He wished he could just vanish.