Gemotions

He ran a hand through his thinning hair, each strand feeling brittle, like wire. The airport's PA system, usually a background hum, was now a predatory presence, its announcements designed to torture him. His meeting with the investors, the deal of a lifetime, was vanishing before his eyes.

He replayed the conversation with his assistant, convinced he'd missed something. Was the delay mentioned? Had he forgotten an email? The man at the coffee shop, who'd been staring him down, was definitely in on it. He could *feel* it.

He imagined them all laughing at him. The airline staff, the investors, even his own colleagues. He paced, clutching his phone, repeatedly checking for new messages. Each notification, or lack thereof, sent a jolt of alarm through him. He saw an empty phone charging point and raced towards it, as if survival depended on its use.