Gemotions

The fluorescent lights of the office seemed to hum with a particularly grating frequency today. Sarah drummed her fingers on the cold glass of her water bottle, the sound echoing in the otherwise quiet space. Her jaw clenched slightly, a telltale sign she was trying to maintain composure. She’d spent weeks preparing that presentation. Weeks! And now, Mark, with his effortless charm and back-slapping camaraderie, was being considered. Again.

She watched, as if in slow motion, as Mark breezed in, already regaling someone with a story that was probably embellished by at least fifty percent. The corner of her lip twitched. Didn't he have anything better to do than socialize?

Her stomach tightened as she thought of the interview. The questions, the stakes, the hushed whispers she'd overheard. She reread her notes for the tenth time, scribbling furiously, as if the physical act of writing could somehow change the outcome.