Gemotions

The air felt thin, difficult to breathe. He pressed his back against the wall, trying to become part of the brick. His hands were clammy, and he wiped them on his trousers. He felt exposed, vulnerable, and every sound in the room was amplified.

A man, well-dressed and imposing, was inspecting his work, his brow furrowed in concentration. The man’s silence filled the space with a palpable tension. He watched the man with trepidation.

He wanted to run, to disappear, to get away from the critical gaze. But his legs were like lead, heavy and unyielding. The silence was becoming deafening.