Gemotions

Arthur found himself abruptly unable to sit still. He paced his small office, the worn carpet offering little comfort. The interview was tomorrow, and a cold sweat had broken out across his forehead. He kept replaying the interview in his mind, imagining all the possible questions and his own inept answers. His tie felt tight, constricting his breathing. He glanced at the clock on his desk – 3:17 PM. The minutes crawled by, each tick echoing in the suffocating silence. He grabbed a pen and mindlessly began to scribble on a notepad, the random shapes and lines failing to quiet the turmoil within.