Gemotions

He gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles were white. The highway stretched before him, an endless, unforgiving ribbon of asphalt. The job was perfect, a chance to get his career finally moving forward. But the competition – especially his friend, Mark – had him feeling… wound up.

He'd rehearsed his answers a hundred times, but doubt still gnawed at him. He slammed his fist against the dashboard, letting out a frustrated groan. He needed to center himself, to calm his racing thoughts.

He glanced at the gas gauge, then at the time. He was running late. He stomped on the gas pedal, the engine roaring in protest. He had to be on time. He couldn't afford to mess this up.