Gemotions

The spreadsheet shimmered in Clara's vision. She blinked, adjusted her glasses. No, the numbers hadn't changed. Sarah, fresh out of college, was making five thousand dollars a year more than she, Clara, a loyal employee of ten years. Her stomach clenched. A wave of nausea, like she'd eaten something rancid, rolled through her.

She found herself staring at the flickering fluorescent lights of the office. They seemed to pulse with a mocking rhythm. A dull throbbing started behind her eyes.

"Clara? You okay?" David, from accounting, peered over her shoulder. His voice was too loud.

"Fine," she snapped, her voice coming out sharper than intended. She immediately regretted it. She took a deep, forced breath. "Just… reviewing the budget." Lies. All lies.