Gemotions

My hands were shaking as I pulled into the parking lot. Today was the day! After weeks of waiting, I was finally going to see the bustling newsroom where Emily, my best friend, worked as a journalist. I imagined the energy, the reporters shouting, the printers clacking. This was going to be sensational.

The address led me to a small, brightly painted building that looked more like a children's play area than a place of serious reporting. I entered. "Emily!" I called out.

A woman in a brightly coloured smock emerged. "Oh! Are you here for the birthday party?"

Emily appeared from behind a row of oversized building blocks. Her face was flushed, her voice strained. "I... I work here," she said, gesturing vaguely. "It's a preschool. I'm… I'm a teacher." My world tilted slightly on its axis.