Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows of the coffee shop, mirroring the storm brewing inside Maya. Sarah, beaming as usual, had just regaled the table with another tale of high-pressure corporate strategy meetings. Except, Maya had seen Sarah’s “office.” It was a cramped, messy shared workspace above a laundromat. A sudden, unyielding pressure built behind Maya's eyes. She plastered on a smile, took a large, slow gulp of her latte, and when Sarah asked about her upcoming art exhibition, Maya leaned forward, voice smooth but sharp, and said, "Oh, it's going brilliantly. I might even sell a piece to a museum. You know, the kind of place that actually *cares* about something other than quarterly profits."