Gemotions

Her breath hitched in her chest. Everything felt… distant. The chime of the elevator, the murmur of the office chatter, the tap-tap-tapping of her own fingers against her desk – it all seemed muffled, as if filtered through layers of cotton. Emily reread the email, the words blurring on the screen, not connecting.

She needed to compose herself, to appear normal. She forced a smile at her colleague, but it felt wooden, unnatural. The weight of the news pressed down on her, a physical presence. The room felt too small, the air thick.

She stood up abruptly, knocking over her water glass. The spill, the spreading stain on her carefully organized desk, felt like a metaphor for something, she couldn't say what.