Gemotions

The office felt too warm, too close. Michael pointed to the complex flowchart, his throat feeling constricted. He couldn't quite meet the eye of the new hire, a Ms. Chen. Each time he explained a process, he found himself swallowing hard, as if forcing down a bitter pill. He'd spent years streamlining this workflow, perfecting it. He’d invested so much of himself into it, into what he did.

He fidgeted, his hands restless. When Ms. Chen asked a question about a particular formula, he felt his own pulse quicken. He needed to leave, to get some air. He made an excuse, his voice barely a whisper, and retreated to the men's room.