Gemotions

He slammed the shovel into the earth, the impact jarring through his arms. Sweat beaded on his forehead, mingling with the grime. The sight of the fallen maple, a behemoth blocking his driveway, had sent a jolt of pure frustration through him. Mark gritted his teeth, the muscles in his jaw tight.

"Damn it," he whispered, kicking at a stray branch. He needed to get to work. He had a presentation in an hour. He pictured the spreadsheets, the looming figures, the expectant faces.

His breath hitched. He wasn’t prepared for this. The world felt like it had tilted on its axis. Every task he thought he had completed now seemed impossibly far away. He ran a hand over his face.