Gemotions

He bounced his knee, a nervous tremor that shook the rickety office chair. Mark stared at the new guy, a fresh-faced college grad named Ben, as he explained the intricacies of the company's archaic filing system. He felt a deep, gnawing emptiness, a sense that he was trapped in a slow-motion video. The clock on the wall seemed to taunt him, each second dragging by with agonizing slowness. He ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands. The urge to smash something, to break free, was almost overwhelming.