Gemotions

He was stuck in a windowless room, the air thick with the scent of stale air. The new hire, with a permanent smile plastered on her face, asked a question about the budget. He sighed. Each breath felt labored, as if there was a heavy weight pressing on his chest.

His gaze flickered to the clock on the wall. The hands seemed to be moving in slow motion. He closed his eyes briefly, imagining the freedom of the end of the day, the quiet of his apartment.

“Alright,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “Let’s go over that one more time.”