Gemotions

The bitter taste of stale coffee coated Amelia’s tongue, a poor substitute for the adrenaline surging through her veins. Her jaw was tight, and the muscles in her neck ached from being clenched. Every bump and creak of the plane's interior felt amplified, each second a hammer blow against her already frayed nerves. Her hands were cold, despite the clammy heat building in the cabin. The presentation. She was supposed to be in New York.

The pilot’s voice, calm and reassuring, grated against her raw emotions. They were stuck on the tarmac. She felt an urge to scream.

She started breathing rapidly, inhaling and exhaling. She stared out the window, looking at the distant trees.