Gemotions

The printer sputtered, spitting out sheets of paper, each one a sharp, stinging reminder. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, a maddening, incessant drone. The simple question, "Ever been to Camp Sunset?" from his new boss, David, had turned the workday into a slow-motion nightmare.

He gripped his pen so hard that his knuckles were white. He tried to think about the presentation he was working on, but the words swam before his eyes. He started sweating. The air in the office felt thick, heavy, suffocating. He excused himself, saying he had to check on the files.

He made sure to stay out of sight for the next few hours.