Gemotions

The new guy, David, was asking questions. Questions about the projects, about the team, about the future. Questions that sliced through the air like tiny, sharp knives. I found myself answering them mechanically, my usual enthusiasm replaced by a flat, hollow tone. My chest felt tight, the air thin. I was supposed to be the expert, the mentor. Now I was just a placeholder.

My hands felt clammy, and the air conditioner seemed to blast icy air directly onto my skin. I kept checking my watch, each tick of the second hand a reminder of the ticking clock, the rapidly approaching deadline.

Driving home that evening, the city lights blurred, reflecting the turmoil inside me. I wished I could rewind time, change things, but the path was set. The feeling was a heavy one.