Gemotions

He stared at the email, the words blurring on the screen: “Ciao Bella…Last Day.” He felt a chill run down his spine. The air in his office suddenly felt thick, oppressive.

He found himself glancing at his coworkers, convinced they knew, that they were somehow involved. He excused himself, citing a headache, and went to the restroom. He splashed cold water on his face, but it did little to quell the rising panic.

He left the office early, but he felt exposed, vulnerable, on the busy streets. He kept turning around, certain he was being followed. He took a detour, weaving through unfamiliar streets.

He drove to Ciao Bella. As he sat in the car, he was certain every person walking past was a part of some conspiracy. He pulled the car over, unable to go in. He felt trapped.