Gemotions

He watched the little red numbers slowly tick upward, each digit a tiny hammer blow against his composure. The silence was oppressive, broken only by the whirring of the stalled machine. He’d barely spoken to his wife all week. The guilt clung to him, heavy and suffocating.

His stomach clenched, a familiar pain that intensified with each passing minute. He ran a hand through his hair, dislodging a few strands. He let out a long breath, hoping to quell the unease, but it only seemed to make it worse.

"This is ridiculous," his coworker, Sarah, finally said, her voice surprisingly steady. He barely registered it. He felt the sting of tears in his eyes. He quickly blinked them away, ashamed. He felt the world closing in, shrinking around him.