Gemotions

The phone felt heavy in her hand. “Yes, congratulations, Susan," I mumbled, the words feeling alien and clumsy. The celebratory tone of the phone call was a direct insult, each positive word like a needle jab. I quickly ended the call.

I felt a sudden, inexplicable urge to scrub something. My hands were clammy, sticky, as if covered in some loathsome substance. I rushed to the restroom and splashed cold water on my face, hoping to wash off the feeling of…wrongness.

The mirror reflected a stranger: eyes devoid of their usual sparkle, mouth a tight line. The thought of Susan’s smug face at the next company meeting was a sour taste in my mouth, a permanent film clinging to the roof of my mouth. I wanted to crawl out of my skin.