Gemotions

The coffee tasted like ash in Michael's mouth. He found himself avoiding eye contact, staring intently at the swirling foam in his mug. The incessant chatter of the break room grated on him. He felt a bead of sweat trickle down his temple.

He noticed Sarah approaching. She was humming, seemingly in a good mood. He braced himself.

"Hey Michael, did you hear about the camping trip we're doing next month?" she said brightly. Michael’s muscles tensed.

"No, I hadn't." He kept his voice level, carefully controlling his breathing.

"It's going to be so much fun. Remember Clearwater?" Her smile didn't reach her eyes. He couldn't shake a growing sense of foreboding, a pressure building in his chest. He felt he needed to get away, to disappear.