Gemotions

The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the conference room. John, usually a picture of composure, fidgeted in his chair. He’d just finished a performance review, and the words of praise felt hollow, tainted by the knowledge of his new colleague's higher pay grade. The boss had clearly not taken his time and effort into consideration.

He found himself tapping his pen against the table, the rhythmic clicking a frantic counterpoint to the silence. He tried to focus on the presentation slides, but the words blurred, the images distorted. He felt a throbbing ache behind his temples. He needed to escape, to clear his head, but his legs felt heavy, as if anchored to the floor.