Gemotions

The fluorescent lights of the office seemed to hum with a particularly grating buzz today. Mark watched Sarah across the room, her hair gleaming, as she presented her ideas to the board. He felt a tightness in his chest, a burning sensation that spread through his limbs. He gripped his pen so hard the plastic creaked.

He'd spent weeks preparing his own presentation, crafting every slide, anticipating every question. Now, the promotion, the one he thought was his, hung in the balance, dangling between them like a cruel joke.

He found himself critiquing everything Sarah said. Her tone was too enthusiastic, her graphs too simplistic. He internally mocked the way she fiddled with her necklace. The smugness he thought she was displaying made his jaw clench.