Gemotions

The small, beige apartment felt like a prison cell to Robert. He paced the worn carpet, each step a repetition of the last. The interview was tomorrow, and his anxiety was peaking. He felt a tightness in his throat, making it difficult to breathe.

He opened his laptop, staring at the screen, but his mind refused to focus. He closed it again, frustrated. He felt the need to scream, to lash out, to break something. He ran a hand through his hair, the gesture frantic.

He looked at his reflection in the darkened screen and saw the exhaustion etched across his face. He felt like he was drowning, the water slowly rising, about to engulf him completely.