Gemotions

The stale air in the break room felt thick, like it was trying to suffocate him. He'd poured himself a cup of coffee, but the taste was metallic, wrong. He avoided eye contact with everyone.

He found himself constantly checking over his shoulder, as if someone was poised to strike. When the phone rang, it sent a jolt of anxiety through him. He jumped as a colleague placed a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, you okay?"

He had to get out. He needed fresh air. He told himself he was just going for a walk, but a walk quickly turned into a circuit of the block, then a longer trek down the street. The buildings seemed to lean inwards, closing in around him. His phone felt like a tiny bomb in his pocket.