Gemotions

The office air conditioning blasted cold, but he was sweating. His tie felt like a noose. The emails kept pouring in, each one a fresh demand on his dwindling resources. He leaned back in his chair, trying to breathe evenly, but the tightness in his chest wouldn’t subside. He spotted a forgotten box in the back of his bottom drawer. Inside, a leather-bound journal. He flipped it open, and a letter fluttered out. He saw his own handwriting: "I'm buried under all these expectations, and I don't know where to start digging myself out."