Gemotions

The bustling newsroom felt suddenly alien to him. Michael searched the room, his eyes darting from face to face. He scanned the familiar faces, searching for Mr. Davies, his editor. He wasn’t there. A knot formed in his stomach. The usual cacophony of ringing phones and frantic typing seemed to fade into a dull roar.

He walked over to Mr. Davies’ desk, his steps feeling heavy. The desk was meticulously clean, devoid of the usual piles of paperwork. Michael found a note tucked under a pen holder: “New horizons. Take the reins. – D.” His hands began to perspire. His gut twisted into a tight knot.

He felt the eyes of his colleagues on him, and he instinctively pulled back. The responsibility, the weight of the moment, felt enormous. He felt a cold chill run down his spine. He wasn't ready.