Gemotions

The night before the interview, he couldn't sleep. The apartment felt too small, the air too thick. He paced, back and forth, the floorboards groaning under his weight. Images flooded his mind: of the job, of the possibilities, of everything riding on this single opportunity.

He saw the faces of his parents, the hope in their eyes, the sacrifices they had made. The pressure felt immense. He ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands.

He finally collapsed onto the sofa, staring at the ceiling. The ceiling fan whirred, a monotonous and irritating sound. The morning could not come soon enough.