Gemotions

The interview felt like a funhouse mirror. Sarah kept catching her reflection in the polished table, and each time, her smile seemed…off. Across from her, Mark, her best friend, tapped his pen against the notepad. He looked calm, collected, the way he always did when facing pressure. She, on the other hand, felt a frantic fluttering in her chest, a hummingbird trapped in her ribs.

She’d rehearsed all the answers, the elevator pitch, the weaknesses, and strengths. But now, under the assessing gaze of the hiring manager, the words felt foreign, clumsy. She stumbled over a simple explanation of her previous role, her tongue suddenly too thick for her mouth.

Later, walking out, the sun felt impossibly bright, the city noise overwhelming. Mark clapped her on the back, said something about “giving it her best shot.” She just nodded, her throat constricted, unable to muster more than a strained smile. It wasn't the rejection she was anticipating, it was the disconnect.