Gemotions

He’d always felt a certain safety in the mailroom. It was predictable, a rhythm of sorting and delivering that soothed him. Then came the notice: Security. His heart hammered in his chest, a frantic drumbeat against his ribs. The sterile environment, the flashing lights, the need for constant alertness - it all felt overwhelming.

The coffee cup trembled in his hand as he walked to the meeting. He could feel the sweat beading on his forehead despite the air conditioning. He avoided eye contact with anyone who passed him in the hallway.

During the introduction, when the supervisor described the new protocols, he felt a strange pressure in his ears, like the air was thinning. He kept nodding, even though most of it sounded like a foreign language. He wished he could just go back to the familiar scent of paper and the quiet click of the sorting machine.