Gemotions

The harsh fluorescent lights of the office building glinted off the polished lobby floor. John clasped his hands together, his knuckles turning white. He heard a door open and close, and the memory of his first day of school flooded his mind, a feeling of both excitement and terror.

He recalled the scent of the freshly sharpened pencils in his desk and the sound of his mother’s voice encouraging him. He felt an urge to check his pockets for a forgotten piece of candy, the way he would when he was younger.

His competition, Michael, sauntered through the glass doors. John swallowed hard. He glanced at the photo of his own graduation on his phone screen. He remembered how proud his parents were, the weight of their expectations now heavy on his shoulders. He felt a deep ache in his chest, a yearning for those simpler times.