Gemotions

The coffee tasted like cardboard, but she drank it anyway. The job application lay on the table, a weightless burden. Her friend, Mark, was already pacing, muttering about salary negotiations. She just sat, absorbing the early morning light. A gentle calm had settled within her.

Mark handed her a printed resume. "Go over this. Be ready to sell yourself." She took it without a word, her eyes drifting towards the window.

The interview felt like a slow tide, pulling her along. She answered questions honestly, without much energy. When they asked about her salary expectations, she shrugged, letting them name the number. Afterward, Mark was furious about how she presented herself. But she just shrugged again.