Gemotions

The fluorescent light above seemed to pulse, matching the erratic rhythm of Gary’s pulse. He started to feel as though he couldn't get enough air in his lungs, his chest feeling heavy and tight. He tugged at his collar, then at his tie, desperate for some relief.

He stared at the numbers above the door, willing them to change, to show movement. But they remained stubbornly fixed. He started to mutter under his breath, a stream of worried sounds about work, about deadlines, about his family, a cacophony of fears.

His colleague, Brenda, was calmly examining her nails. He wanted to scream. He wanted to run. He felt trapped, cornered, and suffocated by the close air. He started to tremble, his body shaking uncontrollably.