Gemotions

The air grew stuffy. Mark looked at his watch. Three hours. Again. He wiped his brow with the back of his hand. He wasn’t prone to anxiety, but this was… different.

He watched his coworker, Emily, quietly chew on the end of a pen. She’d been doing it for an hour. Her usual bubbly demeanor was gone, replaced with a furrowed brow. The silence was grating, broken only by his own ragged breaths.

He felt a vague, disquieting sense that something was fundamentally amiss, though he couldn't put his finger on it.