Gemotions

She hunched over the computer, the glow of the screen reflecting in her wide, unblinking eyes. Her fingers trembled as she reread the cease and desist letter. Each word – “infringement,” “intellectual property,” “legal action” – seemed to leap off the page, grabbing at her throat. She felt a chill crawl up her spine, despite the stuffy apartment.

A wave of nausea rolled through her, and she pushed away from the desk, scrambling for the window. The city lights outside blurred. She fumbled for her phone, intending to call her lawyer, but her fingers were clumsy. Her vision swam. She sank back into the chair, clutching the phone like a lifeline. The implications throbbed in her head, a relentless, pounding rhythm. This couldn't be happening.

She pressed her palms into her eyes, as if to physically push the problem away.