Gemotions

The email sat in his inbox, a digital serpent coiled and ready to strike. He clicked on it, the words of dismissal slithering across the screen. His stomach lurched. He felt the familiar tightening in his chest.

He swivelled in his chair, scanning the office. Were his colleagues staring? Judging? He could almost hear their hushed whispers, mocking his failed ambition. He caught the eye of his boss and quickly looked away.

He needed to get out. He grabbed his coat, his fingers fumbling with the buttons. He didn’t trust the elevator; it felt like a metal coffin. He took the stairs, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The stairwell felt dark and confining.

Reaching the street, he stood in the cold air. A car slowed, the driver watching him. He took off running, the city's symphony of noise now a cacophony of fear.