Gemotions

He hadn't slept well. Every shadow in his apartment had seemed to twist into a judging face last night. Now, the morning light did nothing to alleviate the feeling. His tie felt constricting, as if someone was slowly tightening a noose.

He found himself tapping his pen against the conference table, a staccato rhythm that annoyed even himself. Sarah, his colleague, was late. He glanced at the clock again. She was usually punctual. Had she already gotten the call?

He wished he could just disappear, vanish into thin air. He ran a hand through his hair, dislodging a thousand tiny, unseen weights that settled on his shoulders. He didn’t know if he could breathe.