Gemotions

Michael slammed his fist on the desk, rattling the already precarious stack of papers. “What in the world is going on?” he muttered, the words barely audible. His jaw was clenched so tight his molars ached. He’d spent the entire morning staring at the screen, and now his vision was failing.

The constant phone calls, the hushed whispers in the breakroom, the sudden influx of unfamiliar faces – it was all too much. He tossed his pen, watching it roll onto the floor, where it remained.

He pulled at his collar, feeling suffocated by the close air. Grabbing his jacket, he headed for the door, deciding a walk around the block was in order, maybe he could think more clearly outside. The thought of the meeting triggered a fresh wave of agitation.