Gemotions

The email arrived with the subject line "Catching Up!" His vision swam. He gripped the edge of his desk, knuckles white. *Emily Carter* – the girl who’d spread that vicious rumor in seventh grade. His pulse thrummed, a frantic drummer in his ears.

He scanned the opening paragraph, his eyes struggling to focus. It was a polite invitation to connect, a breezy tone that seemed to mock the years of insecurity she had inflicted. His stomach churned. He felt a sudden urge to get away, anywhere.

He abruptly stood up and paced back and forth, muttering to himself, before he slammed his hands on the desk. He needed something, anything, to ground him. He grabbed the stapler and started haphazardly stapling papers.