Gemotions

Sarah twisted the cheap plastic handle of the overflowing garbage bag, her knuckles white. Sweat beaded on her forehead despite the chill morning air. She was supposed to be at home, preparing for her presentation. But there was no presentation. Mark, her supposed colleague at the prestigious architecture firm, had been exposed as a delivery driver.

Her breath hitched. She should have known. He always wore the same worn-out sneakers, even to "client meetings". The truth was a crushing weight in her chest. She had jeopardized everything, her scholarship, her internship, her future, based on Mark’s fabricated stories. She felt the urge to scream, to lash out. Her throat burned with unshed tears. She clutched the bag tighter, the stench of rotting food a fitting metaphor for the mess she was in.