Gemotions

The email sat in his inbox, a beacon of doom. He'd been refreshing the page every hour, and finally, the dreaded message arrived. He felt an overwhelming urge to delete it, to pretend it hadn't happened. He stared at the screen, unable to move, unable to breathe.

He dragged himself out of his chair, his legs heavy, like lead. He walked to the window, staring out at the cityscape, a vibrant tapestry of lives and successes. Each building represented something he would never achieve.

He picked up a pen and began to tap it against the desk, a frantic, repetitive rhythm. The sound echoed the ceaseless thrumming in his head. The air was thick with a despair he couldn’t name, could barely contain.