Gemotions

Her hand tightened on the steering wheel, knuckles turning white. The traffic was, as usual, a crawling, congested mess. And of all days, of course, this was the day her car decided to cough and sputter like an asthmatic. She drummed her fingers against the dashboard, the repetitive tapping a rhythmic counterpoint to the rising agitation within her.

The interview was in an hour, and she was already late. She pictured Mark, the friend she’d known since kindergarten, already there, charming the hiring manager with his effortless charisma. She hated this feeling, the clenching sensation in her chest, the prickling heat behind her eyes.

Finally, the traffic started to move, almost mocking her as the minutes ticked by. She forced herself to breathe deeply, but the air felt thin, unsatisfying. She knew Mark was a good candidate, but… she just really, really wanted this job.