Gemotions

The screen seemed to blur, the words morphing into a meaningless jumble. He slammed his fist down on the desk, the impact reverberating through his arm. The small office plant, a symbol of stability, quivered. He stared at his hand.

He felt a sudden, overwhelming urge to rage, to break something, to scream at the top of his lungs. But the words caught in his throat. His breath caught in his chest. He felt as though the blood was draining from his face.

The world seemed to spin. The mundane tasks, the daily routines, the familiar faces – all were now tainted by a sense of impending doom. He felt a profound sense of loss, a grief for a future that had just been irrevocably altered.