Gemotions

The sensation was akin to drowning in a steel box. The darkness pressed in, the air thickened, and a growing sense of dread began to overwhelm Charles. He ran his hand through his hair repeatedly, yanking at the strands as if they were the source of his confinement. His stomach churned.

He tried to take deep breaths, but they were shallow and ineffective. He started to pace again, a restless energy coursing through him. He imagined the building's infrastructure failing, the elevator plummeting. He envisioned the end.

His coworker, Susan, seemed to be handling the situation remarkably well, which made him feel worse. He wanted to scream, to lash out, but his throat had closed up. He felt his hands shaking violently and he was unable to stand still.