Gemotions

“Not approved.” The words on the screen swam before Maya’s eyes. She blinked, once, twice. It was as if the news had settled on her like a heavy blanket.

She remained seated, her hands resting flat on the desk, palms down. The surface was cool against her skin. She didn’t feel the usual urge to leap up, to start pacing, to argue.

Her fingers traced the outline of a small, chipped ceramic cat figurine she kept on the desk. She noticed, with an unusual amount of focus, the way the light caught the glaze. The world outside the window seemed to hum with an unhurried energy.