Gemotions

The microphone felt heavy in David’s hand. He stood at the podium, surveying the sea of faces. His father beamed up at him, anticipating his words. David cleared his throat, the sound rough and strained.

He blinked, trying to focus. The room seemed to waver. He felt a profound emptiness, a complete depletion of reserves. He'd prepped the speech, practiced it, but now the words felt foreign, detached.

Each sentence was an effort. He stumbled over the words, losing his train of thought. He wanted to sit, to be still. He wanted silence. The applause at the end was a relief, quickly replaced by the desire to escape.