Gemotions

The email arrived like a slap in the face. "Congratulations, Dr. Anya Sharma!" The subject line mocked her. Her stomach lurched, the contents of her last meal threatening to reappear. Her hands fumbled for the mouse, clicking on the link that would take her to the article. It was *hers*. But it wasn't *hers*. An unfamiliar tension coiled in her lower abdomen, a knot of… agitation.

She stood up abruptly, pacing the confines of her small office. Her skirt felt suddenly tight, constricting. She had to do something, anything, to dispel this building pressure. She needed to scream.

She started to pick at the corner of the desk, tearing at it, the splintering wood a physical outlet for the turmoil within. She would go to the gym, and then maybe… She wasn't sure what would come next.