Gemotions

Sarah pushed back from her desk, the hum of the office a dull drone she barely noticed. A thrilling, almost electric charge surged through her. She felt ready to rewrite the entire company handbook, to conquer the world, even.

She was buzzing with ideas, her mind a whirlwind of possibilities. She wanted to scream, to laugh, to dance on the table. Instead, she tapped her fingers impatiently against the desk, craving action.

During her lunch break, at the local park, she saw him. He was sketching furiously, his brow furrowed in concentration, but a wide smile played on his lips. They were drawn to each other like magnets, and as they got to talking, she discovered their shared diagnosis.

"Sometimes," he said, breathlessly, "I feel like I'm made of pure electricity."