Gemotions

The invitation sat on Ben's desk, a small, square reminder of his impending doom. He had avoided it for days, and now it was hours away. He slumped in his chair, staring at the ceiling. His leg bounced. His heart hammered in his chest. He felt as though a steel band was tightening around his rib cage.

He tried to focus on work, but every thought seemed to circle back to the speech. He imagined the audience, their expectant faces, waiting. He imagined the microphone, amplified feedback blaring his nervousness to the entire crowd. The thought sent a cold wave down his spine.

He grabbed his phone, impulsively calling his best friend, Mark. Their conversation was short, strained. He hung up the phone with the same feeling of emptiness. He had a sudden and desperate need for fresh air. He pulled on his coat and headed out the door. He walked, ignoring the cold, until his legs ached.