Gemotions

He saw the long table, the plates, the glasses, the smiling faces. Each item, each face, seemed to be mocking him. He stood perfectly still, his body frozen in a posture of forced politeness. His hands felt cold, clammy. He could taste the metallic tang of fear in the back of his throat.

He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. He reached for the microphone. He looked at the sheet of paper containing the speech, but the words blurred. The world around him seemed to spin.

He started speaking, the words coming out in a rush, a jumble of phrases that barely made sense. He felt a sense of immense relief when it was over. He couldn't wait to be done.