Gemotions

The boarding gate agent's voice, usually a professional drone, sounded to him like an executioner. "Delayed." The words, delivered with practiced nonchalance, hit like a physical blow. He stared at the screen, disbelieving. The interview, the one that could change his entire career, was scheduled for now.

He felt the blood drain from his face. His carefully prepared presentation, his meticulously rehearsed answers, seemed suddenly pointless. He felt a burning in his chest and a desire to flee. He imagined the other candidates, already in the building, already making their introductions, already impressing the interviewers.

He sat rigidly in his seat, his hands clasped tightly in his lap. He could feel his heart hammering against his ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the impending doom.