Gemotions

The gate agent, a cheerful woman with a headset, smiled and chirped, “Just a little bit longer, folks!” Clara wanted to strangle her. Her best friend’s baby shower, a celebration she had meticulously prepared for, was slipping away with every tick of the clock.

She felt a tremor run through her body, a physical manifestation of the rising tide of her irritation. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to regulate her breathing. It didn't work.

She fumbled with her phone, scrolling through pictures of the baby, the invitations, the cake she’d helped design, and a fresh wave of resentment bubbled up inside. She hated this. She hated everything.