Gemotions

The fluorescent lights of the office seemed to flicker, casting elongated, dancing shadows that swam in David’s vision. He was leaning against the break room wall, staring at a half-eaten bagel. The coffee tasted like ash.

He’d avoided the meeting altogether. Excuses, he'd told himself. A phantom doctor’s appointment.

His legs felt unsteady, like the floor beneath him was tilting. He pictured the faces of his colleagues, their expressions, the way they would act. What would change? His mouth felt dry, and he could barely swallow.

He closed his eyes and breathed.